


The Horrifying Murders of the Zodiac Killer

by icantwritegood



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, FUCKKKK, TENSION TENSION TENSION, This is gonna get dark, but also they want to get down and dirty, but don't wanna make the first move, but in a cool way, idk if it'll be shyan yet, maybe to more??, once again it has becometh shyan, perhaps the real zodiac killer is the friends we make along the way, read on to find out, that's just how it be sometimes, there she goes agaaain, there she goooooes, very much requited hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:12:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantwritegood/pseuds/icantwritegood
Summary: A local sheriff who refuses to accept it's a serial killer they're dealing with. A city detective assigned to help him. But how easy is it to solve a string of murders when they begin to drive each other completely insane?





	1. Unwanted Visitors

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [The Horrifying Murders of the Zodiac Killer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159280) by [larasorna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larasorna/pseuds/larasorna)



It had been, what, six months since the first murder? Half a year. Half a year, but since this one happened in the same town, they were stamping it an emergency. Reckless, rash, and a load of rubbish. That’s what Shane thought it was. And what he thought was even more stupid was the fact that his department had been sent two detectives from out-of-town, one of whom specialized in serial killers. He was certain that if he rolled his eyes again they’d fall right out of their sockets. It wasn’t the work of a serial killer, that wouldn’t make sense. There was nothing to say it was the same killer as last time. But people just love drama, it seemed.

Shane frowned as he spotted Sara hopping down the front steps of the station towards him, Adam following in silence, as he always did. How was one person so damn quiet all the time? Shane very much appreciated it, especially this morning. 

“You’re late!” grinned Sara as she passed by. “You know those two detectives were coming in this morning, didn’t you?”

Fuck. He had completely forgotten that it was  _today_. “Yeah, I knew that. But they’ll be leaving just as quickly, so I wouldn’t get too excited.”

“Oh don’t be so negative,” she said, nudging him as she walked past. “Me and Adam have to go question Michael Mageau. He survived, somehow. The woman didn’t make it through the night.”

“Huh?” Shane stared after her, an eyebrow raised. “Who asked you to do that?”

“The new guy!”

The new guy? “He’s ordering people around already?”

“Well, he can. Also, you might want to tidy yourself up a bit,” she joked, pointing at his loosely-done tie barely touching his unbuttoned collar. “The guy’s a bit fussy.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Shane turned to glare up at the front doors as Adam and Sara hurried off. This station was  _his_.  _He_ was the sheriff. Sara and Adam were part of  _his_ force. And no big-shot city detectives were going to start throwing their weight around his territory. Nuh-uh.

He shrugged off his coat as he strode up to the door, making a point of going straight through the desks to his office without sparing a glance either way. He could see them, alright. Out of the corner of his eye. But there was no way he was going to acknowledge them yet. Boundaries had to be set, and set quickly. 

* * *

"Where are you going?”

“To talk to him.”

“Ryan, give him a minute. He just got in.”

“Yeah. Late.” Ryan gave her a meaningful look. “Come on, Helen. If we’re going to catch a serial killer, we’ve got to get some control over this place, right?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re annoyed. I can tell.”

“I’m not-” He paused, hands on his hips. “Okay. I’m a tiny bit annoyed. I mean, he didn’t even acknowledge us! That’s just rude, really.”

“Just wait for a little bit,” she persisted. “Let him come to us.”  _And keep it nice and civil, Ryan, because so far this sheriff seems as stubborn as you are_.

“No, because if he comes to us first, he’ll think he has all the authority.” Ryan threw a look over his shoulder at the closed office door. “I’ll just pop in for a chat. Let him know who we are. Why we’re here.”

“Just- Just don’t be a dick.”

He was already halfway to the office door. The placard on the door shone in the light;  _Sheriff Madej_. “I won’t. I promise.”

Ryan skipped the knocking, instead just stepping straight into the sheriff’s office, closing the door behind him. The man sitting at the desk didn’t even look up from whatever he was reading, just raised a hand for Ryan to stay quiet for a moment. The detective moved to the desk, deciding to ignore the raised hand.

“Good morning, sheriff,” he said flatly. “Or should I say good afternoon?”

The man paused in his reading, raising his head to give Ryan a long look, a glare on his face like he was royalty and Ryan was a peasant who had dared even speak to him. “Most people knock before entering a stranger’s office.”

“Most people introduce themselves to new coworkers instead of walking right past them,” replied Ryan just as coolly. “Speaking of, I’m detective Ryan Bergara. My partner is detective Helen Pan.” He paused. “I’m not aware if you knew we were coming. The rest of your department arrived to work on time. Something happen to your alarm?”

The man slowly sat back in his chair, watching Ryan closely. “Let me just double-check something here, detective. Are you here to help me, or are you here to be a pain in the ass?”

Ryan blinked at the bluntness of the question. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” replied the sheriff, getting to his feet, showing himself to be considerably taller than the detective. “Are you here to help me, or are you here to be a pain in the ass? Because so far, you’re really not being very helpful. At all. In any way.”

 _Sit down, you dick_. “I haven’t really had the time yet, sheriff. Not that you seem to care about time.”

“Okay, city boy, let me straighten something out here.” The man spoke in a way that made it obvious he was used to being listened to and obeyed, his tone level but commanding. “This station is under my jurisdiction. Not yours. The people here are my force. Not yours. They’re under my orders.  _Not yours_. Can I make myself any clearer?”

“The only thing you’ve made clear is that you’re insecure about your authority here,” replied Ryan heatedly, hands resting on the desk as he leaned across it, eyes fixed on the taller man’s. “My sincerest apologies if I’ve brought about this insecurity. But I’m here to catch a serial killer, sheriff. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

The man was looking down at him with an almost amused look on his face. “It’s going to be hard to catch a killer who doesn’t exist.”

Ryan straightened up, eyebrows raised, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “What did you just say?”

The sheriff shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t think Faraday and Jensen’s deaths are linked to the attack yesterday. And don’t pass out in my office, thanks.”

“You think they were just two random attacks?” said Ryan incredulously. 

“Yes, I do.” Shane sat back down, picking up the paper he was reading. “If that’s everything, you can go.  _Detective_.”

Ryan hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should argue his case. Helen’s words echoed through his head; _don’t be a dick_. He watched the sheriff, who was busy blatantly ignoring him.  _Don’t be a dick. Don’t be a dick, Ryan_. 

He leaned over the desk, snatching the paper from Shane’s hands. The sheriff stared at him in stunned silence, hands still poised as if holding the newspaper. That was better. A reaction, finally.

“How about you do some work, yeah?” Ryan turned away, tucking the newspaper under his arm as he stepped outside, closing the door a little harder than necessary behind him.

“Well?” asked Helen, as he passed by to his desk across from hers. “What’s he like?”

“Absolutely insufferable,” muttered Ryan, chucking the newspaper onto his desk.  

* * *

 

It was almost evening now. Shane could see the darkness creeping in over the sky, herding the sun into the distance. He was working away, reading and re-reading Michael Mageau’s description of the killer.  _Young white male, 26-30 years old, stocky, 200lbs or larger, big face, 5′8′’, light brown curly hair_. He’d sent Andrew and Steven out to ask around the houses that were closest to the murder scene, to see if they could find any leads. They’d be back soon enough, he expected. Steven never seemed to slow down, and Andrew seemed to ride along on this renewable source of energy. They’d be done in record time, as always. 

Shane jumped as Sara basically kicked in the door, urgently gesturing for him to come out. He got to his feet, following her out to the room outside, where everyone was crowded around Helen Pan’s desk. She was on the phone, scribbling wildly on the paper beside her. That other detective was at her shoulder, reading as she wrote. He even did that like a pompous ass.

“It’s the killer,” whispered Sara, unable to quite reach his ear. “He rang.”

Shane stared at her, eyes wide. “Really? Are you sure?”

She nodded, turning as the sound of the phone being put down reached them. Shane stepped forwards, looking down at the woman, eyebrows raised.

“Well?” he asked expectantly. “What did he say?” 

Ryan picked up the paper Helen had been scribbling on before she could, squinting at it. The attention of the cops gathered immediately shifted to him, much to Shane’s annoyance. 

“He’s claimed this death and the last two,” said the detective, as Helen began quickly gathering up her things. “We’ve got a serial killer on our hands here.” He moved his eyes to Shane’s. “No doubt about it.”

Shane ignored the message for now, turning to the closest cop; Brent Bennett. Eh, he'd do. “Get Adam and start asking around the houses close to where the first murders happened. Bring the same description Mageau gave.” He then turned to the rest of the force, hands on his hips. “Any other surprise calls from our killer and he’s to be put through to me, so I can have a nice chat with him. Got it?”

Everyone nodded. Well, almost everyone. 

“Why?” Ryan had moved back around to his desk, clearly getting ready to leave. “Helen got everything fine. I’m sure your guys can transcribe phone calls, right?”

 _This bitch_. Shane half-turned to look him up and down. “And where are you running off to, pal?”

“To try and trace the phone call,” answered Helen quickly, giving her partner a subtle warning look. “We should’ve told you, sheriff. Apologies.”

Ryan held Shane’s flat gaze as he shrugged on his coat. “We’ll keep in contact. If we can.”

 _In other words, I can go fuck myself_. “Quick word before you run off. My office.”

The detective ignored yet another warning look from his partner, simply raising an eyebrow at Shane. “Can it wait?”

Normally, Shane would’ve just let this go, and got his revenge in a more subtle, untraceable way later. But since half his force were listening in, he couldn’t back down. Not in front of them. And he had a feeling this Ryan Bergara knew this.

Shane brushed past him, pausing to mutter one word in his ear. “Now.”

He heard the detective close the door behind them as they entered the office. He turned to face Ryan, arms folded across his chest. The shorter man waited for him to speak, an innocent look on his face. 

“I don’t know what your game is here, detective,” he said dryly. “But I’d very much appreciate it if you didn’t try to undermine me in front of my department.”

“Undermine you?”

“Oh, don’t act dumb, Bergara. You knew what you were doing.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Bergara? Are we on a second name basis now?”

“Believe me, there are many names I’d rather call you right now,” replied Shane with a small smile. “I could list them for you, if you’d like?”

“Maybe some other time,” replied Ryan with a barely suppressed grin, placing his hand on the door handle. “If that’s everything?”

“For now.” Shane stepped back to let him open the door, sweeping an arm towards the busy room outside. “Off you go.”

Ryan nodded at him, stopping just outside the door. “Do you think it’s a serial killer now?”

“Not yet. I like to wait until there’s actual proof in my hands.”

“And a phone call isn’t proof enough?”

“People lie all the time for attention, detective.” Shane rested an arm against the side of the door, the other on his hip. “Anything else you want to ask me?”

Ryan shook his head, turning away. “Nothing for now, Madej.”

“Madej?” repeated Shane wryly. “Don’t get too comfortable, Bergara. Next thing you’ll be doing something crazy like calling me by my first name.”

“I’d rather revert back to ‘sheriff’.”

The two detectives left the station, Ryan throwing one last look over his shoulder to where Shane stood leaning against the doorway to his office, before disappearing through the doors, into the darkening street outside. 

“Yikes.” Sara slowly spun in her chair to raise her eyebrows at him, an amused smile on her face. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sara. He’s a pain in the neck.” He threw a look at her. “Maybe you could convince his partner to get him replaced.”

"Mm. Anyway, Andrew and Steven just called in to say they don't have anything."

"What about Adam and Brent?"

"Nothing yet. They only just left, though."

Shane nodded distractedly. "Yeah. Have forensics been at the scene yet?"

"Yeah, but they're still there."

"Right." He nodded to himself. "Get your coat. We're gonna do some field work."


	2. A Dry Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Zodiac Killer is quiet for a while, giving Shane and Ryan ample time to get on each other's nerves.

There were many things Ryan Bergara liked to think of himself as. 

First and foremost was that he was a good detective. Which he was. Work was probably one of the most important things to him; he put everything into it and so far it had given everything he deserved back. His research was always thorough, his paperwork immaculate. So it wasn't a wonder that the sheriff's flippant attitude towards the murders had ticked him off from the very beginning. Nothing irked him more than someone who treated their job like it was a joke. 

The second thing Ryan liked to think of himself as was dedicated. Determined. He'd never not finished a case, no matter how much danger he sometimes put himself in. Growing up, he'd read every criminology book under the sun, and more besides, and now that he was living it, he worryingly still found it just as exciting. Helen had called him out on it multiple times. _Serial killers aren't like they are in the books, Ryan. These guys will actually kill you if you mess up. You can't just shut the book and turn away_. He knew this. Yet he still found himself pursuing the creepiest, most gruesome cases. They fascinated him, really. 

"The phone company said the caller must have used a pay phone, but they can't track which one." Helen sighed wearily, closing over her notepad. She loved that thing. Brought it everywhere. It had saved both their asses on multiple occasions. "I guess we just head back to the station. It's pretty shitty, isn't it?"

"Well we're not in LA anymore," replied Ryan, his tone making it obvious what his thoughts were on this. "Why is it always the crappy little towns that seem to breed multitudes of serial killers?"

"The boredom drives them insane, I guess," she said dryly. 

"That's pretty plausible." The car's headlights illuminated the pitch black road ahead, the bushes looming out of the shadows as they drove along. "Who the hell drives all the way out here by themselves?"

"At least we can be relatively certain that the killer is killing at random. He probably sits along some dodgy road and just pops a few in whoever is unlucky enough to come along."

"That's true." Ryan glanced out the window at the rolling fields, a black sea. They really were in the middle of nowhere. "Maybe... Maybe let's not talk about that."

A gathering of lights up ahead alerted them to the approaching crime scene. People in white hazmat suits swarmed around the area, the car where the shooting had occurred still stood where it had been left. Ryan squinted at the cop car parked haphazardly across the road, a visual 'fuck off' to anyone who should try to pass. Hmm.

"I still think we should've told the sheriff we were going to come by the scene on our way back," said Helen, raising an eyebrow at him. "We were sent here to help him, remember? And I remember specifically asking you not to be a dick."

"I wasn't a dick!" replied Ryan indignantly. "If you must know, _he_ provoked _me_."

"I know you like to act all innocent, Ryan, but you can be a little shit when you want to be." She opened the car door, giving him a grin. "By now I almost wish someone would come along and knock some sense into you. Maybe then you'd stop running around after real-life murderers, and I wouldn't have to be dragged from one town to the next with you."

Ryan nodded distractedly, the cop car sitting in the middle of the road still niggling him. If it was who he thought it was, then perhaps this impromptu visit was a teeny bit of a mistake. A splash of gasoline on the fire.

Only minutes later his fears were confirmed.

He could see Shane Madej's tall figure among the throng of people, his curly-headed sidekick at his, well, side. She seemed okay, at least. In fact, all the police department here seemed nice apart from Shane. How he had managed to become sheriff, Ryan had no idea. He supposed he was intimidating; their near-argument earlier had made Ryan feel a lot more on-edge than he'd shown at the time. He was pretty commanding, too. Relatively organized. And his force seemed to like him. Ryan paused in his thinking. Perhaps he himself could be contributing a tiny bit to the overall problem. Maybe.

Helen had gone on ahead, catching Sara's attention. Shane turned to look down at Helen, his gaze immediately darting around the scene to land on Ryan. He looked pissed off. Very much so. Ryan could see his mouth moving, talking in that clipped, cold voice that had made Ryan's fists clench the first time he heard it. He suspected Helen was talking back by the way Sara was glancing from her to the sheriff. Shane finally took his eyes from Ryan's to look down at Helen, still snapping away like a disgruntled old man who found two kids messing up his lawn. Helen threw her hands up, like she just had a gun pulled on her.

"What's going on here?" demanded Ryan, finally deciding to walk headfirst into Storm Madej. It was his fault he and Helen hadn't rang Shane, after all. "What's your problem, huh?"

"You're my problem, bud." Shane jabbed a hard finger into his chest, Helen and Sara stepping aside as he did so. "I know we had a little joke around earlier, ha ha, very funny. But I meant what I said. Do not try and undermine me and my authority, or I'll come down on you like a pile of bricks."

"Undermine you?" Ryan snorted, brushing the sheriff's hand aside. "I'm not _trying_ to do that. Perhaps your control over your department simply isn't as firm as you thought it was."

"You're pushing me over the line, Bergara, and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours." He stepped closer to him, lowering his voice so that Sara, Helen, and any nosy forensics guys couldn't hear. "If you fuck around with my job, if you fuck around with the system I have in place, I'll put you through the nearest wall. You get me?"

Ryan stared up at him, all defiance, even though his heart was racing in his chest. "I'm so sorry if me doing my job efficiently gets in the way of you not doing _anything_ efficiently. Which is probably why I was sent here in the first place."

For a moment, he thought Shane was going to hit him. The sheriff took a deep breath, the glaring lights of the forensics crew casting shadows across his sharp features. 

"From now on," he said slowly, as if to restrain himself from shouting. "You and your partner tell me what you're doing. I had heard that you were a real perfectionist, Bergara. Real dedicated. So far you seem like an ass. So start being useful to me, or get off my dick, yeah?"

Ryan followed him to the car where the latest couple had been shot, keeping his eyes pinned on Shane's face. "You seem to be a tiny bit mixed up here, Madej. Me and Helen were sent to help you, sure. But we're still a separate department. So while we're here, we can do what we think we should be doing."

"You have to tell me what you're doing," snapped Shane, as if that was that.

"No, _you_ have to tell _me_ what _you're_ doing," replied Ryan just as heatedly. "I'm a detective. You're just a small town sheriff."

This got his attention. Shane stopped in his tracks, turning his head to look down at the smaller man. His face was icy cold, so much so any passersby could've mistaken it for no expression at all. Ryan swallowed under the intensity of the look, his fists clenched in his pockets. He waited for Shane to say something. Anything. The silence was almost painful. Ryan willed him to speak, to look away, to hit him, to do _something_. Instead, the taller man stared at him in open disdain until Ryan finally dropped his gaze. Shane then turned away, continuing on towards the car the forensics team were gathered at.

Face reddening, Ryan stayed where he was, hands still shoved in his pockets. Well now he felt like a complete idiot. 

"You alright?" Helen appeared beside him, eyebrows raised. "He's scary, right?"

"He's not scary," replied Ryan sharply. "He's just a total douche. Total fucking a-hole."

"Yikes. What did he say?"

"Nothing." _But that was somehow the worst part_. "I'm tired. I'm gonna call it a night. See you in the morning."

* * *

A few weeks had passed with no real progress regarding the murders. Nothing new to provide any basis for progress, either. Everyday Shane stalked into the station - on time - and just wished Bergara and his partner would fuck off already. Well, Helen Pan was alright. She could stay. She didn't try her hardest to ruin his day, or ignore his requests, or reply to his snide comments with even snider ones. But Ryan was really beginning to drive him up the wall. The lack of any proper work to do didn't help either.

They had seemingly settled into a daily routine of throwing insults and comments at each other from dawn till dusk. Some days it seemed light, fun, almost like banter between friends. But then some days it was harsh, sharp, like they were trying to cut each other to pieces with words. Shane wasn't quite sure exactly what determined the type of day it was going to be, what type of bickering they were going to begin. He was beginning to walk into work with a tension in his shoulders, and it wasn't because of the potential serial killer lurking around town.

When the bickering was nice, it was nice.

"You're meant to be a sheriff, right?" asked the detective one day while they were both unfortunately in the kitchen at the same time. "Where's your fancy hat? Perhaps I could actually try and convince myself you're a cop if you wore it."

Shane gave him a flat look. "How much longer are you gonna be hanging around here? You've truly proven yourself useless by now."

"I have to stay here until either the killer is definitely gone or he's rotting in a cell somewhere." Ryan sipped his coffee, watching Shane over the rim. "And then I expect he'll get fried, of course."

"Really, Ryan, thank you for yet another delightfully morbid conversation. They're what get me into work every morning." The taller man gave him a wry look as he walked by. " _On time_."

"You arrive on time just for me?" replied Ryan with a grin. "That's sweet."

"It's not that sweet." Shane left the room smiling despite himself.

And yet the very next day, the bickering could just... change. To such an extent that you couldn't exactly label it 'bickering' anymore. Most days it would begin because Ryan would bring up the distinction between being a detective in a city and being a sheriff in a town, a subject he knew full well would get Shane going. Other days it would start with Shane mentioning that Ryan will have to go back to LA soon, empty-handed, that he'd made himself too comfortable too quickly, and how did it feel to not be able to solve a case you supposedly specialize in? No matter which way it started, it would end the same way each time; a shouting competition, followed by Shane either storming into his office or Ryan storming out of the station. 

Helen was busy keeping tabs in her notebook, of course. Tabs on who had the sickest burns, who shouted first, who gave up and left the room first. So far Shane was leading in the Burn Section, while Ryan was leading in the other two. She was actually in the middle of filling in this notebook when the phone on Steven's desk rang.

"Hellllllo?" he said, spinning in his chair and almost yanking the cord phone off the desk as he did so. "Uh-uh. This is the police. You report, we, um, try to help."

He suddenly straightened up, his face going blank, which was an uncommon sight on his face. Helen lowered her notebook, seeing Sara pause in her writing to observe what was going on. 

Steven nodded. "Mmhmm. Get them all brought to us. No, scratch that, we'll come to you. All three. Yeah. Okay, thanks, bye."

* * *

Ryan picked up the three letters, flipping through them. "There's absolutely no way you can still say this isn't a serial killer."

Sara nodded, turning to Shane, who stood beside his desk. "Whoever wrote those letters provided specific details of the murders, Shane. Weapons, clothing, style of killing. It's the same guy."

Shane looked at the three people gathered in his office; Sara, Helen, and the other one. "The letters aren't that important, really. Not compared to the codes. We need these cracked, pronto."

"But how?" Ryan squinted at the three small pages filled with seemingly random symbols. "Unless you're going to show some competence for once and reveal you can actually do something useful?"

Shane snatched the letters off him, ignoring the indignant glower. "How about you go and ring back the papers who sent these in. The _Chronicle_ , the _Examiner_ , the _Times_ _Herald_ , I believe they were. Tell them to do as the guy says. Print the codes."

Ryan stared at him for a moment, hands on his hips. "You want me to act as your personal secretary, is that it? Want me to fetch you coffee too? Maybe run some domestic errands for you, huh?"

"Well, in order to do some of that you'd need to be able to reach the pedals in your car."

"Fuck you, Madej."

"Shut up, for God's sake. I'll do it, if you're both going to throw a hissy fit about it." Helen sighed heavily, taking the codes off Shane. "And I'll drop the codes around."

"I'll go with," said Sara hurriedly, not wanting to get caught up in yet another Madej-Bergara bitchfest. "Will we go now?"

Helen nodded quickly, the two of them vanishing out the door.

Shane chucked the letters back onto his desk, giving Ryan a contemptuous once-over. "And you're still here because...?"

"Because of this." Ryan pointed at the symbol marking the bottom of the letters. "He's going to strike again."

"He said he won't kill again if we print the codes."

"Serial killers don't work like that, Madej," said Ryan almost witheringly, bringing a slight flush to Shane's face. "They get off on killing. This mark is basically a signature. He's making a name for himself here, or he's planning on doing so. He is going to strike again."

Shane reluctantly picked up one of the letters, examining the small circle with a neat plus symbol drawn through it. "So what would your plan be, detective?"

Ryan blinked. "My plan?"

"If you're so sure he's going to strike again, then how do you suppose we stop it?" Shane leaned on the desk, his other hand on his hip as he watched Ryan expectantly. "Or does the big-shot city detective not have a plan?"

It was Ryan's turn to redden now. "I- I don't have a plan. There's too many variables. I- _We_ can't make an accurate prediction."

"Oh, so it's 'we' when you're unsure of what to do, hm?" Shane sat back down at his desk, resting his head in his hand as he stared up at Ryan like a teacher waiting for a particularly dumb student to finish a presentation. "If that's everything, detective."

Ryan frowned at him in utter bewilderment. "So that's it? We just wait?"

"If that's everything, detective," repeated Shane, emphasizing every word. 

The shorter man turned away with an irritated 'tut'. He'd probably be halfway to solving this stupid case if it wasn't for Shane fucking Madej slowing him down at every opportunity. That wouldn't do. Oh yes, that would have to change. And quickly.


	3. can I get uhh the 'Are We Flirting' with a side of 'Fuck You'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The code is cracked. The Zodiac strikes again. Shane and Ryan aren't exactly sure what they're doing, both regarding the murders and each other.

"So he was right, really."

"I knew he was right, Sara. I just didn't like the fact that he was right."

"You seem to be doing your very best to annoy him."

Shane rolled his eyes. "Oh, no I'm not. I'm being perfectly reasonable."

"Mm." Her tone was dubious. "I've heard different."

"Oh yeah?" He didn't take his eyes off the road, turning off the main street and into one of the smaller suburban ones. "From who?"

"From you, Shane. My desk is just outside your office, remember?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can _hear_ you being an asshole to him."

"Then I expect you can hear him being an asshole back?"

"Aaah," she said, as if uncovering the truth to some great mystery. "So that's why you don't like him, hm? Because he can give as good as he gets?"

"Uh, no he can't. Usually I just keep going until he tells me to shut up." He put on a mocking voice. " _Shut up, Shane!_  That's what he says. _God_ , he's so annoying."

"Yet he's definitely good at what he does. He was right about the killer trying to make a name for himself. 'This is the Zodiac speaking'." She rolled her eyes. "Bit of a drama queen, isn't he?"

"But he still hasn't killed again," replied Shane, clearly growing agitated. "Which Bergara was absolutely certain about."

"It's only been a few days."

"Let's just get this code thing, shall we?" Shane pulled over outside a house, double-checking the piece of paper with the address written on it. "And enough about that idiot."

A local couple had somehow cracked the code that had been printed in the papers. The station had received a call at four in the morning, showing that perhaps they weren't quite alone in their obsession with the hunt for the killer. Ryan had been the one to answer, and he'd also wanted to go and get the code himself. And he almost had. Shane had caught him trying to sneak out the door, and, well, Shane had nearly blown the roof off the place. Adam had sat quietly at his desk, typing away, seemingly oblivious to the escalating argument just a few feet from him. Thankfully Sara had arrived before Ryan could pick which office supply to use as a murder weapon. 

"How about me and Shane go this time?" suggested Sara, trying to calm them down. "Helen's not here. You can't go by yourself. And I highly doubt you and Shane going together would end well."

"Fine. Whatever." Ryan brushed past Shane, with a bit more force than necessary. "Asshole."

So they'd left the detective fuming in the office, and here they were, about to get their hands on the cracked code. 

* * *

Ryan read and re-read the decoded cipher. He could see Helen waiting patiently for him to think it through. Sara seemed generally uncomfortable. And he could feel Shane watching him, waiting for his reaction, probably with some barbed comment ready.

_I LIKE KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE IT IS SO MUCH FUN IT IS MORE FUN THAN KILLING WILD GAME IN THE FORREST BECAUSE MAN IS THE MOST DANGEROUE ANAMAL OF ALL TO KILL SOMETHING GIVES ME THE MOST THRILLING EXPERENCE IT IS EVEN BETTER THAN GETTING YOUR ROCKS OFF WITH A GIRL THE BEST PART OF IT IS THAE WHEN I DIE I WILL BE REBORN IN PARADICE AND ALL THEI HAVE KILLED WILL BECOME MY SLAVES I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY NAME BECAUSE YOU WILL TRY TO SLOI DOWN OR ATOP MY COLLECTIOG OF SLAVES FOR MY AFTERLIFE._

"It's not definitely the right decoding," said Ryan slowly. "There's spelling errors galore. And those leftover letters aren't a good sign."

"It's the only legible decoding of it so far," replied Helen, taking it and scanning the paper again. "He sounds absolutely bonkers."

"There's definitely some psychological issues going on," said Ryan, folding his arms across his chest. "Any local institutions around where we could have a look at the past patients? See if any match Mageau's description?"

"Nothing local." Sara looked to Shane, an eyebrow raised. "You're weirdly quiet."

"I'm just thinking."

"You can't think and talk at the same time, no?"

"Oh shove it, Bergara." The sheriff put a hand out for the cipher, squinting at it. "This guy clearly isn't the smartest. If this code is the right one - oh take that stupid look off your face, Ryan, let's just _assume_ this is the right one - then his spelling is a disaster, and his punctuation is essentially non-existent."

"And what?" Ryan sat on the edge of the desk, eyebrows raised. "We go around herding up people who can't spell properly?"

Shane took a deep breath, willing himself to be patient. "It just helps us narrow some things down, okay? Any other stupid questions?"

"Not unless you have any other stupid suggestions."

"There's only one suggestion bouncing around in my head right now, pal, and it involves this stapler and your mouth."

" _Anyway_ ," interjected Helen, plucking the code out of Shane's hand. "I'll go inform the others. Let them know what's up."

"I'm gonna go make coffee," said Sara, following her out. "It's gonna be a late, late night."

"Psychological issues." Shane snorted, sitting back down at his desk. "No shit, Ryan. A four-year-old could've noticed that."

Ryan stopped at the door, turning back around to scowl at him. "What's your problem with me, Madej? I'm just doing my job."

"You've been here since July and you're only asking me that question now?" 

"Oh just spit it out."

Shane leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms. "You really want to know?"

"Oh, very much." Ryan closed the door over, leaning back against it, arms folded as he waited patiently. "Come on, then. Tell me."

"I don't like your attitude," said Shane in a light voice. "You're a complete know-it-all. I'll go ahead and guess that you were in charge of some department or other back in LA? Yeah, I thought so. Because you act like you run the place. You're ordering my people around and _then_ telling me about it. To summarize, you're irritating as fuck." He raised a hand to stop Ryan from speaking, a warning look on his face. "You asked. I delivered. And believe me, I'm very much holding myself back here."

"Well don't." Ryan shrugged. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't really care about your opinion that much."

Shane smiled tightly. "So much attitude for such a small man. I'd say that's gotten you in trouble a lot."

"Not really. I'm actually a pretty mellow guy when you're not around."

"Oh, yes, of course," said Shane flatly. "Me too."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Well you're _definitely_ not."

"If I remember correctly," said Shane, lazily pointing at him with the pen in his hand. "You got aggressive first."

"Bullshit."

"It's not."

"It is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Look, you're getting aggressive _again!_ " He arched an eyebrow. "Really, Ryan. Control yourself."

Ryan closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a terrible headache. "Jesus Christ. I'm going to leave now."

"Hold on. We aren't quite done here."

"For God's- What. What is it."

"You haven't told me what _your_ problem with _me_ is." Shane grinned at him, resting his head on his hand. "Bit unfair, since I told you mine."

"Do you have an hour to spare?" asked Ryan dryly.

"Maybe I do."

"Oh, I'd say you do."

"Try not to sound too excited."

"Why would I get excited?"

"Well." Shane smiled again, a subtle smirk. "A lot can happen in an hour."

 _Holy shit._ Ryan paused for a moment, staring at him. Was he trying to hit on him? Were they fucking _flirting_? He didn't really know what to say back. Should he even say anything back? He was, undoubtedly, caught off guard, which was a feeling he wasn't particularly fond of.

"So what's your problem with me, Ryan?" persisted Shane, as if he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary at all. "Go on. Lay it on me."

 _Fine. I will_. "You're an asshole, Shane. You're rude, and you're a smart-ass, and what you really need is a good punch in the face. Which I would happily provide."

"Ooh, baby. Keep going."

Ryan gritted his teeth in irritation, arms still folded stiffly across his chest. "You think I'm joking, hm?"

"Oh, yes. Absolutely."

"Well I'm not laughing. Because I really would punch you in the face."

"Then come here." Shane got to his feet, hands resting on the desk as he leaned across it. "Prove it."

Ryan watched him for a moment, wondering exactly what would happen if he _did_ punch him. It was a pleasing thought. Shane was staring back, a strange intensity in his eyes that made Ryan feel just the tiniest bit... odd. Threatened? No, not really. More intimidated, but then again not entirely. It was a weird feeling, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

"Fortunately for you, I'm a professional." Ryan opened the door, not taking his eyes from the taller man's. "And I'm not going to fight you in the workplace."

"Huh. Wimp." Shane sat back down, an unimpressed look on his face as he did so. "You can close the door after you."

He sat in silence for a moment after the detective had left, running a hand through his hair as he leaned on the desk in front of him. He wanted Bergara to go away, that was for sure. Perhaps trying to get him on physical assault wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. But what else could he do? He had to provoke Ryan into doing something, anything that could get him sent back to LA, and out of his life. Shane bit his lip as he thought, frowning. Come on, Madej. Shenanigans are your forte, right? You're clearly annoying him immensely already.

Ryan just needs a tiny push. That's all. 

* * *

"It's the leftover letters." Ryan rubbed his tired eyes, the light from the lamp on his desk really beginning to hurt. "This code can't be the right one. We need the papers to keep printing it, see if anyone comes forward with anything better."

"It's almost midnight, Ryan." Helen gave him a concerned look as she passed by, coat draped over her arm. "And it's been weeks since the code was cracked. Nothing else has come up."

"But why would he put in so many spelling mistakes? Why would he put in leftover letters?"

"To confuse idiots like you." Shane was standing in the doorway to his office, hands on his hips. "I thought I was meant to be on night duty, Bergara. Not you."

"I'm working," replied Ryan through gritted teeth. He really didn't feel like an argument, not tonight. 

"Go home and work."

"I'm staying."

"No offense, but being stuck in a relatively small building with only you is an actual nightmare I've had."

"I'm here too," said Adam quietly, looking at them over his glasses. "Night duty."

"Then how about you stay in your office, and I stay out here," said Ryan sharply. "And if you come out, I kick your ass."

"All bark, no bite."

"Oh I'll bite, Madej."

"Adam, make sure they don't kill each other, yeah?" muttered Helen as she passed by his desk. "We have enough murders on our hands."

Shane waited until Helen had left before continuing. "If you couldn't crack the code when we first got it, you can't do it now." 

"I'll crack your face off this desk, how about that."

"Just give up, Bergara. You can't do it."

"You wanna know how many people have told me that in the past?"

"Not enough, apparently."

Ryan watched him with narrowed eyes as the sheriff wandered towards his desk. "I don't know what you're doing, but I'd like you to fuck off."

The taller man plucked the codes off the desk, ignoring the indignant glare on Ryan's face. "I'm just taking these."

"I'm using them, Shane. Give them back."

"Ah, but you're not using them," replied Shane flippantly. "You're just staring at them, waiting for someone to come along and spill coffee all over the only real pieces of evidence we have."

"Give them back!" Ryan followed him across the office, like an angry Chihuahua after a bone. "Shane, stop fucking around."

"You can't leave evidence just sitting out in the open," shrugged Shane. "It'll get ruined."

Ryan grabbed his arm, yanking him back so suddenly the taller man stumbled a bit. His kept his grip tight, glaring at the taller man. "Give them."

Shane stared down at him for a moment, an eyebrow raised, before holding the pieces of paper just above his head. "Then get them."

"You son of a bitch." 

"Come on, Ryan. One big jump. You can do it."

"I'm too tired for your shit today, Shane. Just give them to me."

The sheriff was grinning down at him, clearly delighted at the situation. "I am. Just take them off me."

Ryan suddenly punched him in the stomach, hard. Shane dropped the codes, stumbling against the desk beside him, doubled over as he gasped for breath. Adam finally raised his head, watching them with wide eyes. For a moment, the only sound was Shane coughing as he fought to catch his breath, still using the desk for support.

"You little fuck." Shane glared at him, the three codes lying on the floor between them. "You hit me."

"You provoked me." Ryan glowered back, refusing to pick up the pieces of paper quite yet. He'd rather be upright if Shane decided to retaliate. "Anyway, you really wanted me to hit you a few weeks ago. So here you go. A late present."

Adam frowned, simply listening, ignoring the phone that had just started ringing beside him.

"I hope you brought the receipt, because I'm definitely giving this one back."

"Then just hit me, Shane." Ryan spread his arms, waiting. "Come on."

The taller man rolled up his sleeves, moving towards him. "Alright. I'll try not to ruin your pretty face."

"Guys."

"Pretty?" Ryan raised an eyebrow at him. "An odd time to try and flatter me. Trying to make me go easy on you?"

"Oh, I don't want easy."

"Guys."

"You want hard, do you?"

Shane finished tucking his sleeves into place, an almost amused look on his face. "Detective, are you _flirting_ with me?"

"Guys!"

"Perhaps," shrugged Ryan, eyebrows raised in an uninterested manner. "Despite the fact I'm about to put you through this desk."

"Oh baby. I love dirty talk."

"GUYS!" Adam finally got their attention, waving the phone in the air. He let his arm drop, pausing for a moment. "There's been another murder."

 

 


	4. Finally, a cork board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lake attacks happen. Ryan and Shane clash over whether the Zodiac is one or two people. The station are happy they got to make a board.

"You have to give me a ride home."

Shane stopped at his car door, a hand resting on the roof as he turned to throw a frown at the shorter man. "Huh?"

"I came here with you." Ryan didn't look particularly pleased with the revelation either. "Helen's car is full. She's bringing the others to the hospital."

"What about Adam's?"

Ryan gave him a flat look. "We forgot Adam."

"Oh fuck." Shane glanced around the lakeside, dew glistening lightly on the grass, apart from the area stained with blood. "We did forget Adam."

The minute Adam had given them the whereabouts of the attack, they had flown out the door, scrambling into Shane's car and screeching out of the station. Adam had remained inside, still seated at his desk, before putting the phone down and deciding to just get back to work.

"One of the forensics guys will give you a lift," shrugged Shane, opening his car door.

"I'm not waiting five hours for a lift home, Shane." He walked around to the passenger door, opening it. "I live on the way back to the station."

"I'm not going that way."

"I will break into your car and steal it right in front of your eyes."

Shane gave him a flat look over the roof of the car. "And you're meant to be a cop, right?"

"Just give me a ride, Shane. Jesus."

"Fine. But I'm going to complain the entire way."

"What's new?"

Shane started the engine, passing by the forensics groups that had started to gather like an ominous flock of gulls. "I thought you'd want to go to the hospital. Apparently the guy somehow survived, even though he was stabbed six times."

"Helen and Sara are there already," replied Ryan dismissively.

"I didn't think that would stop you," said Shane coolly, keeping his eyes on the road. The sun had just started to rise, and it looked like it was going to be yet another grey day."Since you seem to want to do literally everything yourself."

"I'm the only person who's never let me down." Ryan shrugged. "Plus, your department sucks."

"Woah. Hold on a minute there." Shane threw him a sidelong glare. "My department is fully capable of keeping this town safe."

"Clearly not."

"We've never had a serial killer before, Ryan." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Which was exactly why you were forced upon us. Unwanted. Like some five foot tall disease."

"I don't particularly want to be here myself. This town sucks almost as much as your department."

"Then go home."

Ryan turned his head to glare at the taller man, arms folded across his chest. "I will. Gladly. After I catch this Zodiac douche."

"He may not have even done this one," replied Shane flippantly. "It's not the same style."

"Are you stupid or something?"

"That guy and girl were shot and stabbed. And tied up. That's very different from the last one."

"He literally painted the Zodiac symbol on the side of Hartnell's car, Madej. And the dates of the other murders."

"Killers inspire other crazy people all the time, Bergara," said Shane dryly. "I thought you of all people would know that. Which turn do I take?"

"The next left." Ryan was still glaring at him, all haughty disdain. "It's the same guy. I know it is."

"Well I don't take your word for it," shrugged the taller man.

"Don't mind me if I don't care." He unbuckled his seatbelt. "Just stop here. I've had enough."

"Of what?"

"Of _you_."

"Oh stop being so dramatic, Ryan."

"Stop the stupid car."

Shane pulled over, one hand resting on the steering wheel as he raised an eyebrow at the detective. "Get out, then."

"The door's locked."

"I know." A pause. "I locked them."

Ryan could hear the smug smile in the man's tone. "Open the doors."

"I can't let you walk home alone, Ryan. There's a serial killer on the loose!"

"What are you trying to do here?" demanded the shorter man, finally turning away from the door to throw him a dark look. "You can't keep me trapped inside your car indefinitely."

"What I'm trying to do is annoy you. I thought that was blatantly obvious."

Ryan took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully. "I'm not going to let you provoke me, Shane."

"You already have." Shane had a satisifed smile on his face, an arm resting across the back of Ryan's seat. "You basically have steam coming from your ears, man! Relax."

"You can't make me stressed and then tell me to calm down!"

"No offense, but you seem like you're constantly stressed."

Ryan went to unlock the car doors, cursing as Shane slapped his hand away. "I swear to _God_ , dude. Open the doors."

"Say please."

"Open the doors _please_."

Shane took a deep breath, pausing. "No."

"You son of a-"

The sharp knocking on the window made them both jump, yelping out different curses simultaneously. Helen stood at the window, squinting in at them.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice muffled by the glass. "Are you going back to the station? Could I get a lift?"

"Huh?" Shane rolled down the window, an eyebrow arched. "Why? I thought you and Sara were at the hospital."

"I didn't go. I needed to go by the apartment and get files ready. She said she'd meet me back at the station at nine." She looked from him to Ryan, eyebrows raised. "Is this friendship I see?"

"No." Ryan leaned over into Shane's personal space so that she could see his face more easily. "Please get in so he can't torture me anymore."

"I thought you were going home, Bergara," said Shane, nudging his shoulder forwards just enough to give Ryan a tap on the side of the head. "Now you want to go back to the station?"

Ryan sat back, scowling at Shane. "Well Sara probably has some stuff for us, right? I wanna be there." 

"Of course you do."

"I'll just hop in the back then," said Helen aloud to herself. "If you could unlock the doors?"

"No problem, Helen," replied Shane lightly, feeling Ryan's anger radiating off the man in waves as he unlocked the car. "See, Ryan? All it takes is manners."

"I'm going to kill you."

* * *

Andrew stepped back, nodding to himself. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"It's super-cool, dude!" Steven grinned at the board in front of them, photographs and letters covering the cork behind. "Our very own board. Finally."

"All we need now is red string."

"Guys, this is serious." Sara moved to stand between them, arms folded as she studied the board carefully. "There's been four murders so far. Four. And six people attacked overall. One of the survivors - the only one who saw the Zodiac without his mask - has skipped town. He's gone."

"He's gone?" Steven's face fell. "Oh shit. I was very much relying on him."

"We all were. All he gave us was his brief description, and then he bailed." She turned as the doors to the station swung open, the three newcomers crossing the office towards them. "Ah! Glad you could make it."

"Did you get Bryan Hartnell's description?" asked Helen, a hopeful look on her face. "Did he give one? Did he see any of the guy's facial features?"

"Yes, yes, and yes." Sara pointed at her written description that she'd pinned up on the board. "He said the man was anywhere between five foot eight and six foot. He looked about 225 pounds to 250, and he saw dark brown hair through the mask."

"What sort of creep wears an executioner's mask like that?" asked Andrew dryly. "It's just a... a weird thing to do. Even in the situation."

"The first thing we should clear here is that this might not be the same guy," interjected Shane, easily viewing the board over their heads. "Mike Mageau said the guy who attacked them was 200 pounds-"

"Or larger," interrupted Ryan, hands on his hips as he studied the board.

"-and had _light brown curly hair_ ," finished Shane, emphasizing the difference in hair color. "Unless the guy dyed his hair, which is the only explanation."

"It's the same guy, Shane. He left the fucking Zodiac symbol on the car."

"As I already _said_ , he could be an inspired copycat."

"Before you two take off again," said Sara loudly, giving them a warning look. "You could at least include the rest of us. Because it makes sense that this guy could be a different person."

"No it doesn't," replied Ryan firmly. "Why is everyone so eager to say he's not the same guy?"

"Let me present my case." Shane stepped through the group, standing in front of the board with his hands on his hips, like a teacher giving a class. "The hair color isn't all. The style of killing is different. The first two attacks the Zodiac just strolled up to the car and shot the people sitting in it, yeah? But at the lake he goes up to Shepard and Hartnell, ties them up, and stabs them."

"He's definitely breaking the pattern here," said Helen slowly. "But he's most likely still the same guy."

"He hasn't worn a mask before."

"But maybe he's getting cautious," said Steven. "Maybe since Mageau survived he doesn't want to fuck up again."

Ryan raised a hand for quiet, a flat look on his face. "Okay, for argument's sake, let's say the lake attack _is_ a different Zodiac. What would the motivation be there?"

Shane frowned. "What motivation does any murderer really have? They tend to just be crazy."

"The answer is none," corrected Ryan, moving to the board. "I mean, there's countless reasons people _kill_. But there isn't countless reasons that someone would kill just to copy another person." He tapped the code pinned to the board, turning to look at the taller man. "As I said, this guy is making a name for himself. He wants attention. He's sending letters to the press because he wants people to know about him. Serial killers feed off fear, Shane. It's the same guy because he bothered to leave written evidence to show that it _was_ him. Hartnell said he had the Zodiac symbol on the front of his top!"

"Tell me something, Ryan." The sheriff was watching him closely, as if no one else was even there. "Did you idolize anyone growing up? Did anyone in particular inspire you to become who you are today? Apart from Pepé the King Prawn."

Ryan ignored the jibe, seeing Helen raise a hand to cover her smile out of the corner of his eye. "No. I didn't. Unlike you and the inflatable tube man down off Main."

"Oh _snap_ ," whispered Andrew, giving Steven a sly high-five. 

"It's a different guy because their descriptions don't match," said Shane in an unwavering tone, still holding Ryan's gaze. "And inspiration is a perfect motivation in this case."

"It's the same guy," replied Ryan just as firmly. "Because killers aren't inspired by other killers."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I can because I'm not a fucking idiot."

"You sure?"

"I guess I could ask you. You're the expert."

"Well at least one of us in an expert in something," said Shane sharply, turning to face him directly. "Because it's been months and you're still fucking useless."

"You're holding me back," shot back Ryan, fists clenched by his sides. "I know what I'm doing. You're getting in my way."

"Guys, relax!" Sara pushed them apart, rolling her eyes. "Honestly. It's hilarious when we're not all trying to solve multiple murders, okay?"

" _The Most Dangerous Game_."

The group turned to look at Adam, looks ranging from confused to mildly interested on their faces. He was watching them from his desk, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Ryan gave him an expectant look, throwing his hands into the air. "What are you talking about, Bianchi?"

"The book. It's a book." Adam swallowed. "One of the letters says it. It says man is 'the most dangerous animal'."

"Come _on_ , Adam, get to the point!"

" _The Most Dangerous Game_ is about hunting people," said Adam quickly. "It's about hunting people with a flashlight and a gun. Because man is the most dangerous animal to hunt."

"And?" asked Shane, blinking. "That's great and all, but we can't track down the killer via libraries."

"Inspiration." Adam shrugged. "That's the Zodiac's inspiration."

Steven was the first to respond. "Boom. There it is."

* * *

 

It was dark by the time the group left. All day they'd been getting calls from people claiming to either be the killer or know the killer, and if one more phone rang, Ryan was going to kill someone. Well, he had a particular someone in mind, but that didn't matter. Helen and Sara were on night duty. Those two were getting along like a house of fire, lucky for some. He had no idea where Andrew and Steven had gone. Probably to go try some weird food; they apparently loved doing that. Adam had seemingly vanished into thin air, as he so often did.

"You want another lift home?"

Ryan stopped at his car, sighing long and loud at the clear mocking in the man's voice. "I'd rather die. Thanks."

"Oh don't get upset on me, Bergara." Shane wandered into view, passing by his car. "I'm just being friendly."

"I doubt you've been friendly once in your entire life." 

The taller man stopped at the hood of Ryan's car, his coat draped over his arm. "I don't need to be. My irresistible charm has gotten me along just fine."

Ryan rolled his eyes, opening his car door. "I've yet to see this 'irresistible charm'."

"Maybe I'll show you," said Shane, raising a suggestive eyebrow. "How would you like that?"

Okay, he was not imagining it. The guy was _definitely_ flirting. "I wouldn't. At all."

"I doubt that."

Ryan rested an arm along the top of the car door, watching Shane like a hawk. "You doubt a lot of things, don't you?"

"Mm. I suppose."

"But only when it comes to me."

Shane stared at him for a moment, still with that half-amused smile on his face, like he was wondering whether or not to bother laughing at some joke. "And you want my approval, is that it?"

"Nope. Definitely not."

"Then what is it you want from me?"

A pause. "I don't know what I want from you."

Shane gave him a subtle smirk, the sort that may not have even been movement at all, yet somehow measured a ten on the salacity scale. "If you say so."

Ryan didn't say anything for a long moment before finally pushing open his car door fully. "Goodnight, Madej."

"Goodnight, Bergara." 

Ryan sat in his car for a moment, frowning at what had just happened. He wasn't imagining it. Or exaggerating it. Madej was flirting with him, right to his damn face. For what reason, he couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just for fun. Maybe it was for something a little more sinister. Or maybe Ryan should stop overthinking it. Or stop thinking about it at all. He couldn't get distracted from the case, he _never_ let himself get distracted from a case. He started the engine, pulling out of the car lot. _Focus, Ryan. You have to focus._

But Shane was definitely up to something. He was almost positive. And whatever it was, he had a feeling he was at the receiving end.


	5. Push and Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane goes for it. Ryan finally becomes aware of what's going on. The Zodiac is still there too, just chillin.

Shane knew that what he was doing was wrong. He was irritatingly self-aware like that.

He knew that the first two Zodiac attacks did _not_ match the third, despite the conflicting stances within the station.

He was also certain that everyone would agree with him if it wasn’t for Ryan Bergara doubting and double-checking his every word.

So although he knew that what was he was doing was wrong, he also knew that it was necessary for, uh, justice. Okay, maybe it was because he was a tiny bit jealous of how everyone seemed to actually  _like_ Ryan. It was baffling, it really was. The guy was a know-it-all, who was so wrapped up in these murders he rarely seemed to leave the station. He was annoyingly dedicated, stuck to the case like a dog to a bone. And Shane was holding the opposite end of the bone, trying to shake the stupid dog loose without getting his hand bitten off.

But his plan was simple, really. He would distract Ryan from the case at a hand with the hopes that the detective would make a colossal fuck-up. What Shane hadn’t intended was for this distraction to come in the form of flirting. To be honest, he didn't want to think about the fact that he had flirted and _then_ decided that he'd go down that route. But hey, it seemed to be working. And once Ryan fucked up, Shane would also mention their fight from the few weeks previous, and start hinting that perhaps Ryan was under too much pressure, that he could do with some time off. And then the physical nightmare would be shipped back to LA, and he could continue this case in peace. It was a good plan, he was sure it was.

“You okay?”

Shane blinked, mentally shaking himself. “Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at the wall for the past five minutes,” said Brent slowly. “You haven’t even blinked.”

“Well you were staring at me staring at the wall,” replied Shane, realizing his tea had grown cold in his hands. “So that’s weirder.”

Brent rolled his eyes, disappearing back out the door. Shane poured his tea down the sink, reboiling the kettle, leaning against the counter as he delved back into his thoughts. Brent was another one of those who just  _liked_ Ryan. Sara seemed to like him. Steven seemed to like him, but then again, Steven liked everyone. Same with Andrew. No, the weirdest thing was that Ryan had somehow managed to have a conversation with Adam that went on for more than two minutes, which was a station record. The whole thing was inexplicable.

"You're planning something."

"Will everyone _please_ stop interrupting me while I'm deviously plotting?" asked Shane in exasperation, turning to look at Sara. "It's annoying."

"What are you plotting then?" she persisted, getting a mug down from the cupboard. "Is it to do with Ryan?"

"Huh? No. Why would it be to do with him?"

"Because you're like that, Shane." She gave him a knowing look. "You're a total Cersei. The minute anyone shows you any resistance, you plot to kill their whole family."

"I'm not thinking about Ryan fucking Bergara," he said dryly, hearing the kettle come to the boil behind him. "I'm thinking about the case."

"I'm insulted." Ryan's voice came from right behind him, making him start. "Also, that's not my middle name. But nice guess."

"Excuse me," said Shane, half-turning to scowl down at him. "I was going to use that mug."

"Funny, I don't see your name on it."

"The coffee granules are already in it, Ryan. Placed there by yours truly."

"So technically, the _granules_ are yours." Ryan looked at the mug for a moment before simply turning it upside down, emptying the coffee onto the counter. "There you go. Enjoy."

"You son of a bitch." 

"Hey, Ryan." Helen had appeared in the door, waving a hand to grab his attention. "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

Shane hadn't taken his eyes from the shorter man's, completely oblivious to Helen and Sara waiting only a few feet away. "You ever experienced a kettle to the face?"

"Can't say I have."

"Wanna try it?"

"Oh, I bet you have many things you want me to try." Ryan put the mug down with a bit more force than necessary, giving the taller man a lingering look as he turned away. "Enjoy your coffee."

Sara let herself breathe after Ryan had left, realizing she had been clenching her teeth. "Sheesh. _That_ was intense." _Not to mention weirdly sexual_.

"Mm." Shane rubbed a hand across his mouth, frowning as he thought.

"You're plotting again, Shane! Tell me!"

"I'm not plotting," he replied distractedly, his eyes staring into nothing. "I'm rethinking some things." He suddenly abandoned the kettle, heading out the door. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

* * *

"I think they think they're being subtle." Helen smiled to herself as she transferred the latest code sent to the papers into her notebook. "But I mean, really. Damn."

"I don't know." Sara was perched on the edge of her desk, keeping her voice low so the others couldn't hear. Apart from Adam, of course, but he never gossiped. "Shane can be... _weird_ when it comes to this type of stuff. It's hard to tell whether he actually likes someone or if he wants to set them on fire."

"Maybe both?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "It's when he goes quiet that it means something's up. That's when you should start getting worried."

Helen looked up from her notebook. "Worried? Why? What'll he do?"

"Oh, he'll push and push until he's driven the other person insane." Sara glanced at the empty office, just to double-check the sheriff was actually gone. "He doesn't do it often, but I've seen people leave this station in tears after trying to confront him about something."

"Well, actually..." Helen leaned forwards in her seat, dropping her voice to a whisper. “This might sound weird, but I think Ryan sort of enjoys it.”

“You think so?”

“Sort of. But if I were you, I’d let Shane know that once Ryan gets pushed too far, he can just..." She made an explosion noise, accompanied by the appropriate hand gestures. “I’ve only ever seen him blow up twice, and in the second one he broke a guy’s nose.”

“Oh damn," breathed Sara. "How is he still a detective?”

“Because he was able to get the misconduct accusation annulled on the point of incitement by the other party. Which  _was_ true.” She threw a serious look at her friend, an eyebrow raised. “So I’d really encourage you to tell Shane to step back a bit.”

“Mmm, you see, that’s exactly what I  _shouldn’t_ do. Because he’ll do the exact opposite.” She thought for a moment, tapping her pen off the desk in a steady rhythm. “I’d need to do it sneaky. Because he’s sneaky.”

“Well we also need to do it quick. Because I was talking to Steven and Andrew earlier, and they commented on how agitated Ryan seems recently.” 

“I don’t know exactly what they’re up to, but it’s going to be bad for the case.” Sara checked her watch. “When’s your lunch? Wanna grab something to eat? We could make a plan of action.”

“Yeah! Cool.” She picked up her notebook, slipping it into her bag. “It must suck being the only woman in the station.”

“Eh, it’s alright. Whenever I want to talk shit, I have Steven.”

* * *

So Madej thought he was being slick, huh? Ryan sat at his desk, head resting in his hand as he stared at the page in front of him without reading a single word. He knew what the guy was doing. Shane had stepped it up a level, as brazen as always. As if Ryan wouldn't notice the subtle ways Shane was incorporating touch into their daily verbal sparring. Only the other day Ryan had been sorting through some files, his back to the sheriff as they'd bickered, and suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

"I like the filing done alphabetically," he'd said into Ryan's ear, the smile clear in his voice. "Not chronologically. If you wouldn't mind."

"I'd mind a hell of a lot," replied Ryan, turning his head to throw a warning look up at the taller man. "Because I'm almost done."

"Well, if looks could kill."

"If only."

"Maybe that's why the Zodiac's doing it." Shane bit back his smirk, letting his hand nonchalantly trail across the shorter man's shoulders as he turned away. "Like a literal game of wink murder."

"Shut up, Shane."

And then only earlier the man had placed a hand against the small of Ryan's back as he passed by, a casual gesture gone unnoticed by the rest of the station, but warning sirens went off in Ryan's head at the touch. Mainly because he hadn't felt as repelled as he expected he would have. No, the sirens were going off because Ryan didn't actually mind the touching. But he couldn't touch back. He couldn't risk it. Because then Shane would win whatever they were doing. Ryan sighed heavily, finally giving up on trying to decipher the latest letter. He was pretty sure he'd seen Helen trying earlier, so he'd most likely receive a call in a few minutes saying she'd done it. 

"Just us again, is it?" 

Ryan leaned back in his chair as Shane appeared beside him to rest against his desk. "I'm sure Adam's floating around somewhere."

"Oh, I gave him the night off."

Oh no. "You did?"

Shane smiled at him, arms folded across his chest, as if they were having a casual chat at work. Which was one thing they never had. "I did. He's gone off to the library."

"So there's no one else here," said Ryan slowly, an arm resting across the back of his chair. 

"You seem a bit tense there, Bergara."

"And you seem a bit too relaxed."

The taller man laughed, a sound that made Ryan's blood boil. "You know, when you try to threaten me, it's honestly adorable. Really, it is."

"I'm glad you think so." He stared up at Shane in silence for a moment. The only sounds were the quiet traffic from outside, and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. "What are you trying to do here, Madej?"

"Hm?"

"Don't try and act innocent."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stop annoying me." Ryan moved his chair back into his desk, glowering at the code lying on the desk. "And maybe try working for once."

"Maybe you should try not working so hard." Shane leaned down beside him, propping an elbow on the desk, and resting his other hand between Ryan's shoulder blades. It could've almost been considered an amicable gesture, if it hadn't been Shane doing it. "You ever thought about that?"

Ryan turned his head just enough to be able to see that Shane's face was inches away, watching him intently. "I know _you_ do."

"And you don't?" 

He turned his head so that he was facing Shane directly, his gaze involuntarily drifting to the taller man's mouth. "And if I did?"

Shane was watching his face like it held the answer to the meaning of life. For only a fraction of a second, he looked a tiny bit hesitant. Then he moved forwards so that his lips were bare centimeters from the shorter man's. He paused, almost as if daring Ryan to close the gap. Ryan refused, trying to hide his shaky breathing, mouth parted ever so slightly. This was already a mistake. A stupid, _stupid_ mistake.

"If you did," replied Shane finally, his gaze lowered. "We'd have to find something for you to do."

Ryan didn't respond, eyes closed, a frown on his face like he was physically restraining himself from moving. Which he was. _Just fucking do it, Bergara. It's essential that you're the one to do it_. Shane inched the tiniest bit forwards, feeling Ryan's hand slip up and around the back of his neck. _Yes. Come on_. _Before I fuck up and do it myself_.

The screech of one of the phones ended it. Shane straightened up, watching as Ryan basically ran from the chair to Helen's desk to answer the call. He listened intently, back to the taller man.

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll be there in five." He put the phone down, avoiding Shane's eyes as he gathered up his stuff. "There's been another one. Cab driver. He's dead. Some nearby cops are on the scene already."

"Right." Shane moodily shrugged on his jacket, striding past him towards the doors. "Fine. Come on."

Ryan paused, taking a moment to steady himself. That had been close. That had been way too fucking close. "What about the station?"

"Adam's due in in ten minutes," replied Shane flippantly, swanning out the doors.

What the- Ryan blinked as he suddenly realized what Shane was trying to do. If Ryan got caught having it off with the head of the department here, there'd be uproar. He'd be sent back to LA quick-sharp. _Especially_ if he'd initiated it.

 _Shane Madej, you sly bastard_. Ryan glared out the doors after him, reluctantly following.

Well, Shane had been playing a game all along, and he'd been doing it well. But perhaps it was time for Ryan to shuffle the cards. 


	6. The Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the worst. A lead on the identity of the Zodiac killer finally arises.

He was around. Whoever murdered the cab driver had to be nearby, the body was still warm when the first cops arrived. There were police swarming the surrounding streets, searching. It had been Shane's idea to leave some cars near the crime scene with their sirens going; if the guy was hiding nearby, it'd be ten times harder to hear an approaching engine with sirens wailing in the background. The group had laughed at his slyness, all but Ryan. But they had never been on the receiving end, after all. 

"How about in there?"

"Are they still open?" Helen moved towards the diner, squinting in the dark windows. "There's a few lights on."

"We'll just be getting coffee," shrugged Sara. "We just need to put together everything we have, right? Real quick."

"Yeah, okay." She turned to the silent Shane beside her. "You okay, man? You seem a bit preoccupied or something."

He shook his head, smiling an automatic smile at her. "No, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Oh, here comes Ryan and Adam now. I thought they'd scarpered." Sara waved at them, pointing at the diner. "We're gonna stay put for a little bit, just in case there's any sign of the Zodiac. Then at least we'll be nearby."

Shane nodded at her, heading past them towards the door to the small diner. "Let's go then, shall we?"

The waiter was a nice enough guy, agreeing to let them stay past closing, but unfortunately there was no food, only coffee and tea. The group sat at a secluded booth, Helen with her notebook and pen at the ready. Ryan pressed his lips together in a firm line as Shane took the place right beside him, giving him a big grin as he did so.  _Asshole_.

"Paul Stine was his name, right? The cab driver?" began Helen, her pen scratching across the page in front of her. "Shot in the head. The girl who heard the gunshot said she saw the killer, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh." Sara took out her own little notepad. "She said he was a white guy, stocky, with an auburn crew cut, about twenty-five or thirty years old, five foot eight or nine, and he had thick-rimmed glasses."

Helen nodded as she wrote. "Right. Okay. Anything else I should list in here? No one?" She glanced at Ryan. "What about you, Ry? You usually notice something I don't."

He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Nope. Nothing else I can remember."

"Are you  _sure_  you're okay?" she asked dubiously. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I feel fine."

"Anything you have to add?" asked Sara, turning to Shane with a raised eyebrow. 

"They found a bloody finger print," said Shane, continuing to subtly run his hand up Ryan's leg under the table. "On the door. And they found a pair of gloves as well, on the back seat."

"Oh, shit!" Sara stared at him with wide eyes. "That's major!"

"I know, right? I-" He paused for a split second as Ryan grabbed his wrist, keeping his hand away from its intended target. "If we get a match for the print, we're good to go."

"How many patrol cars are out?" asked Ryan, still gripping Shane's wrist tightly, so tightly he heard the man curse quietly under his breath. "I'll go, if we need anyone else."

"There's plenty out there," said Shane stiffly, twisting his wrist in an attempt to free his hand. "You're fine where you are, action man."

" _You_ can't tell me what to do, desk jockey," replied Ryan, keeping his fingers around the sheriff's wrist. "And I want to catch this guy myself if I can."

"You alright, Shane?" Sara was squinting at him over her glasses. "Why are you wiggling like that?"

"Am I?" asked Shane innocently, sitting still again. "Didn't notice. Must just be the excitement."

"I need to go to the bathroom," announced Ryan suddenly, pushing Shane's hand away under the table and getting to his feet. "I'll be right back."

Shane tuned out the low chatter exchanged between his coworkers as they continued discussing the latest killing. He knew he should be talking with them, giving his opinion, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He realized he looked exactly like Adam, simply gazing at the table in silence. But even though Adam frequently acted as if he were elsewhere, he rarely missed a thing. Shane, on the other hand, was in a different world altogether. Jeez, who was he supposed to be distracting here again?

"I'm gonna grab another coffee," he said, getting to his feet. "Any of you want one?" He barely even stopped to hear their replies, heading off around the corner and towards the small coffee dock. And the bathroom just beside it. 

He quietly opened the door, spotting Ryan standing with his head lowered, hands gripping the sink in front of him. Shane glanced back to make sure none of the others were following before stepping in, shutting the door over behind him. The other man immediately froze, turning his head to glare over his shoulder at him. For a moment they simply stood where they were, watching the other, waiting for a sign to do whatever they were going to cause each other to do.

"If you try something like that again," said Ryan in a low voice, still holding the sink tightly, like it was keeping him upright. "I'll break your hand. And I won't care if there's anyone else there."

"If that's what you're into."

"I'm serious." Ryan turned to face him fully as Shane closed the space between them, his eyes fixed on the taller man's. "Shane."

"I know you're serious," replied Shane quietly, looking down at him with an almost fond smile on his face. "So am I."

Ryan felt the hand cupping his face before he saw it, his breath catching in his throat at the light touch. "Stop it." He hated how shaky his voice sounded. "Don't."

"I'm not doing anything." Shane gently but firmly tilted the shorter man's head to the side, brushing a thumb along his cheekbone. "See? Eyelash."

Ryan wasn't looking at the eyelash. He was busy holding the taller man's intense gaze, Shane's fingers almost burning into the skin along his jaw. "Yeah." 

"Your pulse is positively _racing_ , Bergara," said Shane with a small smirk. "Why's that?"

Without warning, Ryan suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, driving him back against the wall with enough force for Shane's head to hit off the tiled surface. Shane stared at the detective with wide eyes, his hands gripping the shorter man's arms, holding him away. Now it was _his_ pulse that was racing, and he wasn't quite sure if it was for the right or wrong reason. Lion tamers were suddenly a hell of a lot more relatable than a few seconds ago.

"You're enjoying your stupid game, aren't you?" muttered Ryan, still gripping two handfuls of Shane's shirt as he held him back against the wall. 

"I'm just fooling around, Bergara," he replied in a dangerously quiet voice. "You know that, I hope."

"The only thing I know is that you're trying to ruin this case for me, even though it's probably the biggest case in my _entire fucking career_." He was breathing heavily, jaw clenched. "I'm not going back to LA until I have this Zodiac son of a bitch behind bars, whether you like it or not."

Shane was quiet for a moment, face unreadable, like he was carved from stone. "You're not as stupid as you've been pretending then, hm?"

"Or perhaps you're just not as smart as you like to think you are." 

Ryan released Shane the split second he heard the bathroom door swing open, revealing Adam, as wide-eyed as always. He looked from one to the other, hesitating before stepping into the room. With a tight smile, Ryan stormed past him and back out into the diner itself. The silence lingered for a few long seconds. Shane smoothed down his shirt, a scowl on his face as he did so.

"That looked serious," said Adam after a while, still standing just beside the door.

"Don't say anything to anyone," replied Shane dismissively, mentally composing himself as he headed for the door. "It's fine. I have it under control."

Well, he _had_ had it under control. He wasn’t quite so sure anymore. The ball was suddenly in Ryan’s court, and it was his new least favorite feeling.

He joined them at the table again, taking the space beside Ryan, only a tiny bit more hesitant than before. The detective was deliberately ignoring him, concentrating on this task so much so that he was just staring at the table, face icy cold. Shane kept his hands to himself this time, giving the most sidelong of glances to the man sitting beside him. Ryan was clearly still on edge, shoulders tense, arms folded tightly on the table. Meanwhile the two women were still discussing what they were all _meant_ to be discussing.

“But an auburn crew cut is different than both curly hair and dark hair.” Sara shrugged helplessly. “I’d almost go as far to say this could be  _another_  guy, maybe. I think the original killer could be inspiring copycats.”

“I think you could be right. the last letter sent to the _Times Herald_ was this one.” Helen flipped through her notebook to where she’d stuck a picture of the letter in. "But see the date? It arrived  _after_  the press published what happened!"

“So that just means the  _writer_ was inspired, really.” She gave the silent Shane and Ryan questioning looks. “Nothing from you guys?”

Shane cleared his throat, noticing how Ryan flinched at the sound. The guy seemed almost  _afraid_ or _…_ Holy shit, the guy was afraid that Shane was going to snitch. _That's_ why he wouldn't look at him. Hmm. "I think that this Zodiac guy just likes the attention. There doesn't seem to be any actual motivation for his actions, while most common murderers tend to do it to maybe keep someone quiet." He turned to look at Ryan, eyebrows raised. "What's your opinion on that, hm?"

"My opinion on what?" replied Ryan coolly, not looking him in the eye. 

"Using violence or intimidation to keep someone quiet." He continued the seemingly innocent line of questioning. "Do you know if that's a common thing among serial killers? Or maybe it's just people in general. I know a few people who can just..." He clicked his fingers. "Snap."

Ryan finally looked at him, not replying for a long moment. "It's not a common thing among serial killers. Most serial killers don't tend to be _provoked_ , which I guess separates them from people who, as you said, can just _snap_."

"But let's say the person who 'snaps' actually seems to _like_ the provocation," said Shane in a light voice, resting his head on his hand as he talked. "And has hinted to liking it in the past. It's a tad bit crazy for them to then suddenly snap, don't you think?"

"Not since that's usually the whole point _of_ the provoking."

"Not all the time."

"Oh, that's _definitely_ been the point in certain cases I've experienced."

Shane feigned surprise. "Oh. What experiences are these?"

The detective was glaring at him now, a warning look. "Shane."

"Because I have an experience from the other side that is quite interesting."

"Shut the fuck up."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" asked Sara as Helen narrowed her eyes at them. Adam had rejoined the table, giving them both a knowing look. "We're still talking about the Zodiac here, aren't we?"

"Yes," replied Ryan, clearly fuming. "But let's continue the talk back at the station, yeah? It's getting late, and Andrew and Steven probably want to go home."

"True." She got to her feet, Helen and Adam following suit. "And I think that waiter has fallen asleep in the kitchen. I feel kind of bad now."

Shane purposely paused before getting out of the booth, ignoring Ryan's impatient shove. He had to make sure they were at the back of the group. He was plotting again, baby. Oh, he was always plotting recently. It was oddly enjoyable. Huh. Maybe he should've gone into the CIA or something that requires more plotting-based activities. 

" _Go_ , Shane!" Ryan pushed him again, giving him an annoyed glare as they headed for the door. "What are you looking at me for?"

"Oh, I'm not allowed look at you anymore?" He stepped forwards to catch the open door, his arm in the way of Ryan exiting. "Hey, guys! I forgot my wallet. I'll be out in a second."

"Cool!" called Sara over her shoulder. "I'll bring these two back to the station."

Adam glanced back at Shane just as the door closed. "Ruh-roh."

Helen raised an eyebrow at him. "Huh?"

"Nothing."

Shane turned his back on the door, eyes flickering around the dim, empty diner. The place was basically closed; the only light was a thin sliver below the kitchen door, and the blinds had been pulled over the windows. It was now or never.

“What are you doing?” demanded Ryan, reaching around him for the door. “Get out of-”

Shane blocked his way, grabbing the shorter man’s face and kissing him. It wasn’t a soft, lingering one. It was fierce and hungry and Ryan realized he was kissing him back with just as much intensity, their tongues brushing, hands running all over each other. Ryan felt his back come up against the plaster wall beside the door, Shane’s hands first pushing him back against it before pulling his hips forward so their bodies fit together like one hot and heavy puzzle. Ryan fought to convince himself to stop, to cut it out, hating how much he really fucking liked it. His hands slipped around the back of Shane's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his own head tilted back to accommodate Shane's height. The taller man increased the pressure, their mouths still glued together, one hand pressed against the wall beside Ryan’s head, the other gripping his waist. For a moment he thought his plan was going to backfire horribly. _Stop. Stop stop stop_. And then he simply broke off, pulling open the door and stepping out into the parking lot outside. The door swung shut behind him.

“Hey! Hey, did you do that?!” The waiter had appeared at the sound of the crunching noise, pointing at the broken plaster beside Ryan. "What the hell, man?"

"I didn't do shit!" replied Ryan sharply, his hand clamped between his shoulder and side. "Thanks and goodnight."

"You just punched a hole in my wall!"

He was too flustered for this. He could feel his blood still pumping around his body double-time. "I- I'll come around tomorrow. Sorry. Bye."

Ryan pulled open the door just in time to see Shane's car fly past, headlights almost blinding him. Sara had stepped out of her car, an entirely confused look on her face as she watched the car screech off down the street in the direction of the station.

"Did something happen?" she asked, frowning at Ryan, who was still breathing heavily. "He just completely ignored me."

Ryan shook his head, pacing towards her car. "No. Nothing happened. He's just- He's just-"

"Are you alright?" she asked as Helen stepped out of her side of the car. 

"Calm down, man," said his partner, circling the car to look him in the eye. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened!" he almost shouted. He could feel Adam watching him in silence; he probably had the closest idea of what had happened, after all. "Can we just _go?_ "

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Helen shared a meaningful look with Sara, who nodded subtly. "Let's get going, yeah?"

* * *

For the first time, Shane was beginning to wonder if maybe he had overestimated himself. Maybe he didn't have quite as much self-control as he thought he did. _No, you can't think like that now, Madej. You_ are _in control_. _Your goal of getting that stupid little fuck back to LA could still work_. He couldn't seem to stop his fingers from tapping out an agitated rhythm on the steering wheel of his car as he waited for the light to change. He had to get back to the station, he had to compose himself before Sara came asking what was up. He wondered if there'd been any sightings of the killer. He wondered if the bloody finger print had been tested yet. And constantly buzzing under those fleeting thoughts was one screaming for his attention; he wanted more than a little make-out session with Ryan. If only he could tell his own brain to shut the fuck up. Well, there was alcohol... But no, he was in the middle of trying to solve a string of murders.

The light finally turned green. Finally. He had felt like a total dumbass sitting at the lights at an otherwise empty intersection. Well, he hadn't felt like a dumbass, but he had felt very much on edge. The cab driver had only been shot an hour or two ago. Maybe he shouldn't have rushed off by himself. _You're sabotaging yourself now, Madej. Jesus_.

The station was a welcome sight. He parked sloppily, making sure Sara's car wasn't there before getting out. He didn't want to see Ryan right now, and he didn't want to think about why. 

"Finally!" Steven got down off Andrew's desk, where they seemed to be have been playing charades of some sort. "It was _Surf's Up_ , by the way, Andrew."

"We got a guy ringing us who sounds like he has an actual lead," said Andrew, throwing Steven a flat look. "He said his friend used to say weird stuff. Arthur Allen or something."

"Arthur Leigh Allen," corrected Steven, a finger in the air. "It sounded promising, boss man."

"Really?" Shane looked from one to the other, keys still in hand. "When did he ring? Did he say he'd talk to us?"

"About an hour or so ago, and yeah." Andrew passed him a piece of paper with an address and a time on it. 11am. "This could be legit, Shane."

"I'll go," replied Shane, turning away and heading towards his office. "I'll go with Sara. Why didn't you call one of us?"

"Oh. We did." Andrew and Steven shared a puzzled look. "Uh, Ryan said he was going to tell you guys."

 _So that's why that son of a bitch stayed behind at the crime scene_. "Well he didn't."

Steven swallowed, reluctantly saying the next bit. "He said he'd go tomorrow with Helen."

" _I_ am going," said Shane firmly, stepping forwards with a cold anger that he was fully aware shouldn't be aimed at Steven or Andrew. " _Me_. And if that idiot even tries to go I'll kill him."

"Yikes. Okay."

"Hey guys!" smiled Helen as she strolled through the doors, followed by the others. "What's up?"

Sara was giving him a concerned look. "Why'd you run off, dude? You okay?"

He was glaring at Ryan in icy silence, the anger burning a hole through his chest, threatening to burst forwards and make him do something he knew he shouldn't do. "Meet me here at ten tomorrow, will you, Sara?"

Ryan's death stare slowly slipped away as he realized that Shane knew about the tip-off. "Me and Helen have that shift."

"Well you don't anymore," snapped Shane, shoving the slip of paper with the address into his pocket. 

"You can't do that, Shane," shot back Ryan, pointing an accusing finger as he crossed the office towards him. "You can't just chop and change shifts as you want to."

"Yes I can. Because I'm in charge."

"You're not in charge of me and Helen! As I've told you multiple times!"

"Oh I'm _well_ aware of how many times you've told me," replied Shane just as heatedly, not moving as the shorter man took a threatening step towards him. "But that's probably because you never shut your fucking mouth for more than five minutes."

"Hey, hey!" Steven popped up in between them, hands out to either side. "Let's just chill for a second, guys."

"Fuck you, Shane," said Ryan harshly, ignoring the human barricade in the form of Steven.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" spat back the taller man over Steven's shoulder. He ignored the general confusion that flickered across everyone's faces. He was just intent on driving Ryan to some form of physical violence. If everyone saw, then Bergara would be gone tonight. "I think you'd like that _very_ much."

Ryan suddenly turned away, storming through the small group and out the doors. The ensuing silence weighed down on everyone like lead blankets across their shoulders. No one dared even look at Shane. Apart from one person.

"That," said Sara pointedly. "Needs to stop."

"I'm going home," he replied as he headed for the exit, like he hadn't even heard her. "Ten sharp, okay, Sara? On the dot."

He was going with or without her. Because he'd be damned if he let Ryan solve this thing before he did. Absolutely damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cop that scooby doo impression


	7. Kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Ryan seem to get along for a little bit. They're awfully wrong. A quick encounter with the Zodiac doesn't help.

Shane stepped out of the car, he and Sara closing their doors in unison. It was a bright morning, warm, with a lovely gentle breeze. It matched his mood perfectly. He could see Helen's car already parked outside the warehouse where Arthur Leigh Allen was currently inside working. Shane took his time wandering across the parking lot with Sara, who was giving him wary glances. 

"You seem oddly calm about the fact that Ryan's in there already," she said slowly, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I honestly thought you were gonna strangle him last night."

"Oh, I'm not worried," shrugged Shane as they headed up the steps to the front of the building. "We're meant to be acting as a team, after all."

"Okay, now I'm definitely suspicious." She stopped him, a warning look in her eyes. "What do you have planned?"

"I have nothing planned!" he replied, as if offended by the very accusation. "I'm just doing my job, Sara."

She gave him one last dubious frown before heading inside. Shane followed, still smiling to himself. On his way out of the station last night, he had realized that perhaps everything had worked out more in his favor than he had previously thought. Ryan had stormed out of the station in such a hurry that he had left his jacket hanging just under Helen's. And in its pocket was his badge. Ignoring the basic human decency shouting at him to stop, Shane had pocketed the badge, whistling a jolly tune as he headed out into the parking lot. _Good luck trying to question Allen without police identification, Bergara_. And it seemed that it had worked.

Ryan was clearly in a panic, him and Helen searching their pockets. She had her own badge in hand. Sara hurried forwards, already voicing her concern, offering to help. She was always so _good_. Shane, however, was not. He held back, hands in his pockets as he watched from the doorway. Ryan's eyes flickered from Sara to him, pausing halfway through whatever he was saying. Shane hoped he didn't look _too_ smug as he smiled at the detective, eyebrows raised. He could almost hear the buzz of the light bulb turning on in Ryan's head.

“You have it.” Ryan sounded both enraged and incredulous as he crossed the reception area towards him, fists clenched by his sides. “You stole my badge. You stole from me!”

“That’s not true. You just forgot it." Shane smiled at him. "I simply retrieved it for you.”

Ryan refused to take the bait, hands on his hips as he glared at him. “Then just give it over.”

Shane looked thoughtful for a moment, making sure Sara and Helen were preoccupied with continuing the search. “Uh, no.”

“Give me my badge, Madej.”

He casually turned away, taking the corner into a different corridor. “Yeah, sure thing.”

“Where the hell are you going?” demanded Ryan, reluctantly following him down the corridor. "You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my life."

“Ouch,” hissed Shane, clutching his chest as if in physical pain. “My feelings.”

“You’re disrupting your own investigation, idiot.” Ryan extended a serious hand. “Badge.”

Shane took it from his pocket and held it up to the light, looking at it with feigned interest. “Really, how does someone forget the _one thing_ they need to do their job?”

“How does someone go from ‘forgetting their wallet’ to accidentally putting their tongue down someone else’s throat instead?”

“Easily." He lightly pinched Ryan's cheek like you would a toddler, an amused smile on his face. "Especially when they look like you.”

Ryan brushed his hand away, trying to remain dignified even though he could feel himself reddening. “You’re  _actually_  trying to flirt with me? Even now?”

“Just stating a fact.” 

“You might be acting all cool and suave about it today, but you were the one who basically ran away after.” Ryan raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips. “Why was that, huh? It’s not because you  _liked_   _it_ , was it?”

“I never said that,” replied Shane, trying not to sound too defensive. “But  _you_ didn’t need to say anything, with all your grunting and cursing. I know I’m good, but we weren’t in a damn porno, Ryan.”

“Any noises of the frustrated sort were caused because of  _who_  I was kissing, not the way in which I was being kissed,” lied Ryan flippantly. “Don’t break your arm jerking yourself off.”

“So you’re really trying to tell me you  _didn’t_  like it?”

“Maybe I did,” replied Ryan, gaze lowered as he distractedly plucked at a button on Shane’s shirt. “And maybe you did."

Shane watched the shorter man's face closely, still with the small smile on his face. "Maybe."

"So if the both of us  _maybe_  liked it…” continued Ryan quietly, finally raising his eyes to meet Shane's. "Then _maybe_ we should do something about it."

"Hypothetically speaking."

"Oh, entirely hypothetical." He nonchalantly tugged Shane a step forwards by his belt, a finger hooked around it. "I mean, hypothetically, we could do something about it right now. In that storage closet."

Shane raised an eyebrow as the shorter man went ahead and undid the top few buttons on his shirt, letting Ryan pull him just a tiny bit closer. He tried to keep his breathing quiet, even. “Are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” said Ryan lightly as he casually untied the taller man’s tie so that it hung loose around his collar, pulling it off in one smooth movement. “I’m not doing anything.”

Shane bit back a smile, tilting Ryan’s head up for a better angle. “Alright. Me neither.”

In the blink of an eye, Ryan swiped his badge from Shane's relaxed grip, pushing the taller man away as he stepped back. “Ha! How about that, Madej? How about  _that_?”

“You son of a fucking bitch,” he muttered as he fumbled to fix up his shirt, seeing Sara coming around the corner up ahead. “Oh you son of a  _bitch,_ Ryan Bergara. Give me my tie right now.”

Ryan gave him a grin in response, tucking the tie into his pocket. "Nice chat. See you later."

The detective basically skipped away, giving Sara a big bright smile as he passed her. She automatically smiled back, looking over her shoulder at him as he vanished around the corner. Shane turned his back to her as he quickly buttoned up his shirt, mentally cursing his own stupidity, his own gullibility, and Ryan. 

“You alright, Shane? Arthur's okay with being asked a few questions.” She tapped his shoulder. “Hello?”

“Yep! Yeah, I’m good," he replied, keeping his back to Sara as he edged around her in an attempt to hide his flushed face. "You go on ahead, yeah? I'll ask around about Ry- about Allen. Arthur Leigh Allen." He cleared his throat as he headed off down the corridor. "I'll meet you in fifteen."

So _that's_ what he'd been putting Ryan through on a daily basis? He would've felt a tiny bit bad if he wasn't so goddamn flustered. But more than that, he was annoyed. Annoyed that he'd fallen for such a simple trick. He headed deeper into the warehouse, keeping an eye out for anyone he could ask a few questions to. _Come on, Madej. Focus_. 

* * *

"So what's the verdict?"

"Guilty," said Ryan without hesitation. "I mean, he referenced _The Most Dangerous Game_ right in front of us. And the watch was a damn Zodiac watch with the symbol and everything!"

Helen continued on down the steps, frowning. "That's true. But there's nothing firm we can go off on here."

"Which is super annoying," said Sara, wiping her glasses on her top. "But he's definitely suspicious. What did his friend say again?"

"He said that Allen called himself the Zodiac way before the Zodiac started doing it," said Ryan, crossing the parking lot with them. "And that Allen said he wanted to hunt people using a gun with a flashlight taped to it. I mean, really? He's clearly cracked. Also, where's Shane?"

Helen gave him a sidelong glance. "I expect he's around somewhere."

"He said he was going to ask around about Allen, see if any coworkers knew anything. He'll turn up sooner or-"

"Guys!"

The three turned to see Shane hurrying across the parking lot towards them, looking very much excited, a big grin on his face. He ushered them further away from the building, like a sheepdog with his sheep. 

"Wait. Weren't you wearing a tie?" asked Sara, a puzzled frown on her face.  

"Ye- No. I wasn't. Shh. Listen." His voice dropped to an excited whisper. "Allen is way, way weirder than you guys probably think. He's spent time in jail only recently for child molestation, and one of his old jail buddies is working here. He told me that Allen confessed to the fucking lake murders while they shared a cell!" 

Sara's eyes widened. "Are you fucking serious?"

"If you're screwing around right now I'll knock you out," said Ryan, pointing at him. "I'm serious."

"And I'll actually let him," added Helen, watching Shane's face closely.

"I am being very much serious." He gave them all an almost indignant frown. "I'm not _that_ bad. Jesus."

"But we can't go off another criminal's story," muttered Helen, thinking to herself. "We need actual, legitimate testimony. We need to talk to his family."

"I'll go," said Shane and Ryan simultaneously, sharing a quick glance. 

"I don't know if that's the best idea," said Sara slowly.

"I think it's a great idea," replied Shane, straightening up and breaking the serious atmosphere hanging over the small group as he did so. "What do you think, Ryan?"

The shorter man gave him a wary look. "If the family live close by, I think I'll be okay."

Helen flipped through her notebook, nodding as the found the right page. "There's the address for his brother. Start there, if you want."

"Great." Shane clapped a firm hand on Ryan's shoulder, smiling at Sara and Helen. "See? Cooperation. Nothing to worry about here, ladies."

"Right," said Helen doubtfully, not liking the way Ryan wouldn't look her in the eye. "You guys go ahead then. Me and Sara will go back to the station and start on getting a warrant to search wherever Allen lives."

They split off, Shane and Ryan walking in silence across the parking lot, away from Sara and Helen. They didn't look at each other until they stood on opposite sides of the car, their gazes meeting briefly as they opened their respective doors. They waited for a moment in silence as Sara and Helen left. Shane started the engine, opening his mouth to speak.

"Shut up," said Ryan immediately, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Just go."

"Hold on, are you really trying to act all high and mighty now?" replied Shane, arching an eyebrow. "I believe it was _you_ who suggested getting down and dirty in a storage closet earlier."

"Hypothetically," said Ryan dryly, arms folded across his chest. "As we both said at the time."

"Oh, yes, of course." Shane pulled out of the lot, the gravel crunching under the wheels. "You're not so brave after all then, are you?"

"Brave?" Ryan rolled his eyes. "And where exactly does bravery come into this?"

Shane smiled wryly, watching the road with an almost distracted look in his eyes. "You'd be surprised."

"You think?" 

"I hope so."

 

* * *

The brother of Arthur Leigh Allen had revealed much information; Arthur had molested children at his old job as a janitor at a school, Arthur found spelling things slightly off funny, just like in the letters they'd already received. He lived in a trailer a few miles away. And the most important thing was that when asked if they thought Allen could kill someone, the brother had shared a long look with his wife before saying "yes". And yet Shane still just couldn't bring himself to really focus, to really get into it. He was too aware of Ryan's movements, no matter how big or how small. Their eyes met frequently, for fleeting moments, each time making Shane's heart beat that tiny bit faster. It was like there was a rubber band between them, and each time they looked at each other it tightened, almost to breaking point. Really, it just wasn't a good sign. 

It was dark by the time they left the brother's house, carrying a lot more information and a lot more tension than they'd entered with. Shane's grip was tight on the steering wheel as they drove out of the street, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He didn't want to look at Ryan. He didn't want to give in first. Little did he know that Ryan didn't want to either.

"Interesting stuff, right?" said Shane after a few minutes silence, sitting at a red light. 

"Mm."

A pause. "That's all you have to say?"

Ryan gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh, so now you want me to talk?"

 _Just to fill the awful silence, yeah_. "Oh you know how much I, uh, value your opinion."

"I sure do."

"C'mon, Bergara. Don't start giving me the cold shoulder now."

"Why shouldn't I?"

Shane smiled. "Because you won't be able to hold it."

Ryan refused to look at him, arms folded tightly across his chest. He couldn't look at him. Not right now. "I beg to differ."

"Are you challenging me?"

"If I am?"

Shane drove on for a few more moments, the car's headlights illuminating the winding road ahead. A closed diner appeared out of the shadows. Huh, how ironic. He immediately pulled into the car lot, killing the engine. The silence weighed down on him, making his breathing oddly labored, which he tried to hide. Ryan sat where he was, biting his lip hard enough to hurt, trying to distract himself by any means necessary. No other cars passed. No people walked by. It was just him and Shane. And the crushing silence. 

"I need my tie back," said Shane quietly, finally turning his head to look at the shorter man. "If you wouldn't mind."

Ryan didn't reply for a moment. "That's why you pulled over, hm?"

Shane took a deep breath, as quietly as he could. "I think you know why I pulled over."

"I do." Ryan's face was obscured by the shadows, but Shane could almost feel his gaze burning into him. "It's because you're not done."

It was pitch black, the only source of light being the dim orange strip of the silent radio. He heard Ryan unbuckling his seat belt, the fabric scratching as it slid off the detective's shoulder. “Done what?”

“This.”

Ryan grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss. Shane’s eyes fluttered shut, his hands cupping the other man’s face, drawing him further in, hearing the breathy sigh from Ryan as he did so. The detective clambered across the gap to straddle him, barely taking his mouth from Shane’s, a hand running down the taller man’s side, slipping off to undo his seat belt. Shane broke off to let the belt slide past before sitting forwards, hands clutching Ryan’s back, pressing their bodies together as their mouths moved against each other. Ryan’s hands slid under Shane's shirt to feel their way up his sides, hitching the shirt up as they did so. Shane let out a breathy curse against the detective's mouth, pulling Ryan harder against him, unable to get enough, he wasn't able to get enough, he needed _more_. The two men were breathing heavily as they quickly slid back into their usual dynamic of wanting to be the one in charge. 

“Mind the-” Shane let out a mumbled curse as Ryan shoved forwards, pressing him back against the car seat. “Mind the handbra-”

Ryan cut him off mid-sentence, their tongues brushing as they grasped and clutched at each other, hands everywhere, thoughts nowhere. Shane moved to Ryan’s neck, trailing long, deliberate kisses down it, hearing the detective’s breathing pick up. Ryan's hands gripped the seat above Shane's shoulders, fingers digging into the upholstery as he felt Shane's mouth work at the delicate space just below his jaw, trying in vain to stop himself from letting out a trembling sigh. Shane tugged at the buttons on Ryan’s shirt with enough force to simply pop them open, slipping his hands around the detective’s waist, his skin hot under his fingers.

“Stop,” whispered Ryan in his ear, his voice oddly strained, a hand pressed into Shane’s chest. “Shane, st-” He paused to let out a breathless curse, involuntarily pushing himself against him. “No, stop it! There’s someone coming!”

Shane immediately stopped, turning his head to look out the window, breathing heavily. “What? Where? I can’t see anyone.”

“He’s coming up behind the car, Shane!” Ryan moved back into his own seat, grabbing his jacket and desperately searching for his badge. “Fucking hell, dude! Shit!”

“Oh my God. Oh my _God_.” What the hell had he been thinking, pulling over on an abandoned stretch of road? Oh, wait, he  _hadn’t_ been thinking. At all. He had just been stupid, caught up in whatever stupid game they were playing. Sitting here, they were basically begging for the damn Zodiac killer to find them.

The approaching man flicked on a flashlight, coming up to the driver’s window, Shane and Ryan blinking in the sudden glare. The man's face was impossible to make out behind the stark light from the torch. Ryan had his badge resting on his leg as he half-buttoned his shirt, his heart thumping in his chest. The badge glinted in the light, impossible to miss. Shane’s warning was a bit more direct, his gun in hand, pointing up at the window. Was it Allen? He couldn't see properly. For a moment, there was just silence.

The flashlight switched off, the dirt crunching under the man’s boots as he began running off down the road. Ryan threw himself from the car, seeing Shane already flying off down after the man.

“Shoot, Shane! Shoot him!”

The sheriff skidded to a halt for better aim, raising the gun. “Fuck it! He’s gone into the field!”

He jumped as Ryan tore past him, the detective scrambling down the small dip into the field, the dirt cool against his hands. “Then come on!”

Whatever crop the field was full of was up to Shane's shoulders, meaning Ryan had no idea where the hell they were. They followed the sound of crunching twigs and brushing leaves, heading deeper into the black field, Ryan following the white of Shane's shirt until it suddenly stopped.

"Can you hear him?" asked Shane, panting for breath as he spun around. "I can't hear him! He must've stopped!"

Ryan gestured for him to be quiet, a finger to his own lips. The surrounding blackness was unnerving. It stretched all around them and up into the sky, where the stars watched patiently. A cool breeze rustled the plants. Keeping his gun raised, Shane slowly began moving forwards, pushing the tall crops aside as quietly as possible. He could feel Ryan's hand on his back, probably for guidance, but it was comforting nonetheless. There was nothing. No movement, no noise at all.

"He's gone," said Shane after what felt like an eternity of listening. "He could be anywhere in this fucking field. Did you radio in for backup?"

Ryan's impatience was palpable. "Did I? Did _you?_ "

"I was out of the car first, Ryan. You should've-"

"Shut the fuck up. Whatever you're about to say, I don't want to hear it."

Shane took a deep breath. "So we don't have any backup coming, is that what you're say-"

Ryan shoved him with enough force for the man to stumble back a few steps. "You should've done it your damn self, Shane. Now he's gone!"

"He's gone because of you, not me," shot back Shane, jabbing a hard finger into his chest. "And if you ever push me while I'm talking again I'll-"

The second shove was even more forceful than the first, almost knocking him completely off balance. Ryan stood where he was, simply waiting, his heavy breathing the only sound. Shane stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was in fact his own breathing that he was hearing, his fists clenched almost painfully tight by his sides. Without thinking, he closed the space between them, grabbing Ryan by the collar of his shirt with such fervor the shorter man was forced back a few steps, gripping Shane's wrists for balance.

"Perhaps I've been going a bit easy on you recently," said Shane in a harsh whisper, right in Ryan's face. "But don't think for a minute that I won't break every damn bone in your body if you push me again. Oh, go on, pal. I _dare_ you."

Ryan was glaring up at him, defiantly holding his gaze. "I think this is where you do what you actually want to do and try to fuck me. Maybe this time you could-"

Shane gave him a sharp shake, cutting him off. "I am fucking  _warning_ you, Bergara, do not try me. Not now. Not ever."

"Or what? You'll give me a big scary kiss?"

The taller man basically threw him to the ground, following him as he scrambled backwards. Ryan could see the shine off the man's eyes as he glared down at him. His fingers were digging into the dirt beside him as he tried to stop his racing heart from leaping out of his chest. For a long while they simply watched each other, both equally infuriated. Ryan realized he was gripping the dirt so hard simply to restrain himself from standing up and punching the taller man square in the face. But even though they both knew it wasn't the other's fault that the man who could have been the literal Zodiac got away, there was no one else around to blame but each other.

"Enjoy your walk home, asshole." Shane finally turned away, heading back towards what he hoped was the road.

"Yeah, I think I fucking will!" shouted Ryan after him, getting to his feet. "You fucking dick, Madej! Fuck you!"

He heard Shane coming back before he saw him. Then he felt him, hands roughly pulling Ryan forwards into a harsh kiss, so blatantly aggressive that Ryan was pretty certain Shane could still punch him across the face at any second. Their mouths moved against each other, all fire and ice, hard enough to make it clear that neither gave a shit about how the other felt about it. The taller man suddenly shoved him away as if the immediate situation was all his fault, vanishing back into the field without a second glance. Ryan stood where he was for a long while, running his hands through his hair, his mouth burning, hot to touch. He heard a car engine start, rapidly disappearing down the road. Then quiet.

Oh, he was going to kill Shane the next time he saw him. He was going to kill him.


	8. Plan A through Z has been fuckt up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Helen try to disarm the ticking time bomb that is Ryan and Shane's, uh, 'relationship'. They fail miserably.

It was a beautiful morning. A warm breeze drifted through the streets. The leaves seemed extra green. The sun smiled down on anyone and everyone. If it was a movie, a happy-go-lucky musical number would've sprung to life immediately. But the weather can be an awful liar sometimes, and meteorologists unfortunately cannot yet predict storms of the metaphorical kind.

“Ryan came back super late last night,” muttered Helen, rolling her chair over to Sara’s desk. “Like, four in the morning. Which is extremely weird for him.”

“Oh?” Sara looked at her over her glasses, instantly alert. “That’s very, very weird, because Shane came in here at about half two to get his apartment keys. I thought they’d gone together?”

“They had!” She threw a look over her shoulder to Ryan’s empty desk. “I told him not to come into today. To take the day off. He looked really tired and… and just  _stressed_.”

“Did he give any hints as to why?”

“He said he’d tell me this morning, but I didn’t want to wake him up.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what happened, but I have a feeling it was bad.”

“I think you're absolutely right,” replied Sara quietly. “Shane’s angry about something. I can tell. He wouldn’t stop muttering to himself about some field or something.”

The door to the sheriff's office was closed. It had been closed for most of the morning, Shane locking himself away inside to most likely plan a certain someone's demise. And although no one really discussed it, the entire office knew something was off. Steven was more hyper than usual. Adam was even quieter than usual. Brent couldn't focus on anything; he'd forget his pen, then he'd forget what he was trying to write, then he'd forget he'd boiled the kettle for coffee fifteen minutes ago. Everyone seemed an exaggerated version of themselves in order to distract each other from the cloud of tension slowly swallowing them up.

Helen hesitated before whispering the next bit. "Ryan's... Ryan's mouth was kind of red. As if he'd been, y'know... kissing someone."

"Oh no. That is _not_ good." Sara paused, pulling a face. "Maybe it was someone else? Maybe?"

"We both know it's Shane." Helen sighed heavily, eyes closed. "And they're gonna tear the place apart at this rate."

"They might relax, you'd never know." She gave a hopeful smile. "Maybe it's the beginning of something nice?"

"Not a chance," said Helen dryly. "Whatever it is, it's going to end in flames."

"Anyone want coffee or something?” asked Steven brightly, getting to his feet. “Anything? Seriously, please?”

The two women turned to see what had caused the sudden offer, eyes landing on Ryan making his way towards them. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, strands of dark hair falling forwards as he sat at his desk, basically collapsing into his chair.

"I told you to stay home and rest, Ryan!" Helen rolled her chair back over to her adjoining desk, a concerned look on her face. "Why didn't you just take the day off and sleep?"

 _Because I can't fucking sleep anymore_. And for the times he did sleep, it was fitful, and full of thoughts he really just didn't want to have now. "I'm not tired. I'm fine." 

“What happened last night?” she asked. “You shouldn't be in, man. Are you hungover?”

“No. Just did a lot of walking.” He pointed at the notebook on her desk, a sloppy gesture. “We saw him. The Zodiac.”

“What?!” Her yelp made everyone look at her, eyebrows raised. She smiled at them, noticing how Ryan kept his head ducked. He clearly didn’t want it to be public knowledge yet, for some reason. She continued more quietly. “Are you serious?”

“Mm.”

“How?”

Ryan stifled a yawn. “We were sitting in the car outside a diner, a closed one, and this guy just walks up to us and-”

“Hold on.” Sara joined them, a puzzled frown on her face. “So you _did_ drive together?”

He blinked slowly. “Yeah.”

“Then why did you walk home?”

“Not important,” he mumbled. “Anyway, this guy comes up with a flashlight and-”

“A flashlight? What time was it?”

“About eleven." He thought. "Half eleven.”

Helen gave him a long look. “Why were you two sitting in Shane’s car outside a closed diner at half eleven at night?”

He froze, eyes glued to the table. “Uh- We just- I had to-”

“What were you doing?” asked Helen slowly, seriously. “Ryan.”

“Nothing!” He was pretty sure he could still feel Shane’s mouth against his, all passionate heat, enough to leave him burning for more. “Literally nothing. He was just annoying me. As usual.”

"The truth, Ryan." Sara stood at Helen's shoulder, hands on her hips. "You can tell us."

For a moment, he looked like he was about to do just that. His mouth opened ever so slightly before he closed it again, swallowing. The two women watched in disappointment as he shook his head.

"That's it," he said quietly. "That's the truth."

"Ryan-"

"I said that's the truth!" he suddenly shouted, getting to his feet. "Stop asking me questions goddammit!"

The silence that followed was painful. He threw a look over his shoulders at his coworkers, all of them immediately looking away but for Adam, who raised a worried eyebrow at him. Sara and Helen were simply staring at him, stunned by the sudden outburst. And behind them the door to Shane's office opened, revealing the man himself. He looked almost as disheveled as Ryan did, dark circles under his eyes. He leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest, gaze fixed on Ryan's. And well, if Ryan had thought he'd had time to calm down, he was terribly wrong. It only took the sight of the other man to have his blood boiling again. His hands would've clenched into fists if they hadn't been pressed against the desk so hard.

"Ryan." Shane's voice was stiff with anger, so icy the station became the Arctic for a split second. "A word."

The detective had to bite back the flurry of insults and curses that were fighting to free themselves. He could feel Helen watching him warily, mentally begging him to stay put. Without a word, Ryan moved past her, towards Shane. The taller man stepped aside to let him in, ignoring the warning look Sara threw his way as he closed the door after him. He stood where he was for a long while, still holding the door handle. He could feel Ryan's silent anger radiating off him in waves of heat.

He kept his eyes closed to avoid the shorter man's glare. "You have to go."

"What?"

"You have to go back to LA." God, he hoped he didn't sound too desperate.

Ryan kept his arms folded across his chest, face unreadable. “What’s brought about the urgency?”

 _Because I think I'm actually going insane_. He had sat up all night, unable to even try to sleep, and he would have been alone if it wasn't for his thoughts kicking and screaming in his head. “Because I fucking hate you, Ryan. I want you to leave.”

“I told you,” replied Ryan slowly. “I’m not going home until the Zodiac is put away. Or have you suddenly forgotten that?”

“I can’t-" He ran a hand through his tousled hair, taking a deep breath. "You can’t stay here, Ryan!” He finally lifted his eyes to meet Ryan’s, teeth gritted as he did so. “I want you to leave! I want you to go. Home.”

“No, you  _need_  me to go home,” said Ryan quietly, noticing how Shane’s eyes narrowed menacingly as he spoke. “Because you can’t handle what’s happening here. You can’t handle me and you.”

“I can handle it fine,” lied Shane adamantly, eyes following Ryan as the shorter man moved further into the office. _Or maybe I’ve lost total control because all I can think of is fucking you against that desk until you can’t even think anymore_. “You’re impossible to work with.”

“Then file for a temporary transfer,” said Ryan sharply, leaning back against the desk, hands gripping the edge, as casually as if it was his office. “And go.”

Shane moved towards him, slowly, eyes locked on the shorter man’s. “I’m not leaving. Not ever. And definitely not because of _you_.”

“Then I guess we’re both stuck here.”

“I guess we are.”

Ryan sat up on the desk as Shane drew ever closer, his hands still gripping the edge in a white-knuckled grip, an intense spark in his eyes as he watched Shane with open fervor. "Come on then, Madej. Since when do you hesitate."

Shane placed a hand on the desk either side of the detective, his hips pushing Ryan's legs apart. He leaned in to kiss him, the tip of his nose brushing past the shorter man's, his breath ghosting across his lips. Then he stopped, all of a sudden, lazily opening his eyes. He pulled back ever so slightly, noticing how Ryan instinctively moved forwards with him. Ah, he still had some control here after all. He gently placed a finger under Ryan's chin, lightly brushing a thumb along the bottom lip of his parted mouth. The detective's eyes half-opened at the touch, sleepily, almost dreamily.

“Don’t overestimate yourself, Bergara,” muttered Shane, searching Ryan’s face closely as he talked. “You’re not in charge here. You don’t have the upper hand. So stop acting like it.”

Ryan’s eyes opened fully to fix on his, dark and serious. “I’ll have you out of here by the end of the month, Madej. I promise.”

Shane kept his finger under the shorter man's chin for a few long seconds, keeping his head tilted up to look him in the eye. "Alright." He flippantly pushed the man's head aside like he was throwing away a piece of trash, hearing the muttered curse from Ryan as he did so, before casually leaning forwards to continue talking. "And how do you think you'll do that?"

Ryan had to focus twice as hard on forming a basic sentence, the taller man's face inches from his. "It's not the method here, Shane. It's the motivation."

"Huh." Shane raised an eyebrow, looking down his nose at him. "Which is?"

Ryan hooked his fingers behind the taller man's belt, pulling him close, his other hand slipping under the back of Shane's shirt to press their bodies together. He put his lips to Shane's ear, voice dangerously quiet.

"The fact that I really, _really_ hate you."

Shane waited for a moment before moving his head back to look directly into Ryan’s eyes. “You’re going to regret this, Ryan. I'm telling you that much.”

He stepped back, letting Ryan hop down off the desk and head towards the door. The detective stopped, turning back around to look at the sheriff, who was already looking at him. 

“You sure you want this, Madej?”

Shane watched at him warily. "Want what?"

"Just say yes or no."

"...Yes."

Ryan smiled at him, a big sunshine-y one. "Great." He opened the door, immediately getting the attention of everyone outside. "Listen up, guys. Last night me and Shane bumped into a certain Zodiac. We didn't see his face, however, and Shane managed to lose him before-"

"Hold on a fucking second." Shane followed him out into the station, already feeling his blood pressure rising. "That's not fucking true! _You_ lost him!"

"Wait, you guys actually saw him?!" asked Brent, sitting up straight at his desk.

"I didn't lose him, Shane! You didn't use your fucking gun for the exact reason it was given to you."

“Well you didn’t radio in for backup!” shot back Shane, voice sharp enough to cut. 

"Stop shouting!" Steven shared an anxious look with Andrew, the two of them getting to their feet. "Guys, stop!"

“Why didn’t you just  _shoot_  the fucking guy like I told you to!” shouted Ryan, furious. 

“Because we’re not in LA here, Ryan! This may come as a surprise to you, but around here the first step of an investigation isn’t to kill the fucking suspect!”

“This isn’t the first step, Shane! This is our millionth step because you’re holding us back because you can’t handle our-” He cut himself off, finger still pointing accusingly at the taller man, pausing for a long moment. “Because you can’t handle the case.”

“ _I_  can’t handle the ‘case’, huh?” They both knew what they were referring to here, and it was not the case. “You’re the one who physically assaulted me just a few weeks ago, oh, and you also punched a hole in the diner wa-”

“Both times because of  _you_.” Ryan wasn’t going to roll over, not now. “Because of you and your- and your-”

Helen watched in horrified silence as the argument rapidly got louder, the two men getting closer and closer together.

“My what?” challenged Shane, completely oblivious now to the rest of the station watching. “Spit it out, Bergara!”

"You know what you're doing!" Ryan's voice was livid. “I’m not leaving! Not until the case is over!”

“And what if it doesn’t end, huh?” Shane gestured at the rest of the office, turning to look at them. “We have no strong leads. We have no evidence to point us in any firm direction. We’re fucked. Because of _you_ , Bergara. If you had rang in for backup, we could’ve had that field surrounded in minutes. We could’ve caught the closest thing to a suspect that we’ve found. But you didn’t. Because you can’t  _focus_. Because you don’t have any  _discipline_. Because you're _distracted_. Because you’ve lost control and-”

He heard the few rapid footsteps before Ryan caught him with a flying tackle, sending them both tumbling to the ground, locked together. The station erupted into panic, desks scraping across the floor as everyone moved towards them as one. Ryan had the taller man by the collar, slamming him down against the ground over and over, ignoring the shouts of his coworkers to stop, please stop, you’re hurting him! Shane kicked out underneath him, shoving Ryan’s face away, both of them yelling curses and insults at each other. Helen managed to pull one of Ryan’s arms back, Sara appearing beside her just a bit too late as Shane managed to flip positions with such momentum the two men rolled again, and again, until they came to a sudden halt against Adam’s desk. Shane had one hand around the shorter man’s throat, holding him down, Ryan’s hands tight around his wrist. His hand moved from Ryan’s throat to his jaw, holding his struggling target in place as he drew his fist back.

“Fucking stop!” Brent dragged Shane off the detective, preventing the punch from landing properly, struggling to hold him back. “Get Ryan! Get him away!”

Andrew and Helen caught Ryan before he could close the gap between him and Shane, the shorter man moving with such momentum he swung forwards a bit as they caught his arms. They yanked him back, Steven quickly lending a hand.

“Keep your dog under control, Helen,” spat Shane as he panted for breath, feeling Sara and Adam move up to help Brent hold him. “Maybe stick a fucking muzzle on him.”

“Fuck you, Shane!” Ryan was still struggling to get at him, pulling Helen and Andrew forwards a few inches. “I’ll kill you!”

“What the hell is going on with you two?” demanded Steven, standing between them. “You’re both acting insane!”

“Absolutely nothing is going on,” said Shane icily, eyes locked with the detective’s. “Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

Ryan glared at him, breathing heavily. “Yes.”

“I think you need to take a break from each other,” said Sara meaningfully, giving Shane a long look. “For the rest of the day.”

He shrugged Brent’s hands off him, returning her serious look. “I think Ryan just needs to learn how to calm down.”

“Shane,” said Sara in a warning tone. “Stop.”

He could still feel Ryan’s murderous scowl burning into him. He turned to meet the shorter man’s eyes, his cold glare meeting Ryan’s heated one. Half of him wanted to fucking knock the detective out. The other half just wanted to straight-up fuck him. It was a strange feeling, and he really, really hoped it wasn’t showing on his face half as much as it was showing on Ryan’s. He turned away, disappearing into his office and slamming the door behind him. 

* * *

Ryan paced down the empty side street, rubbing a weary hand down his face. He needed to sleep. He needed to eat. He needed an impossible amount of things. Yet the only thing he really wanted was Shane. The whole thing was infuriating, intoxicatingly so. And he couldn't stop thinking about the stupid son of a bitch. Whatever the hell he was attracted to in Shane, he couldn't pinpoint. He was good-looking, Ryan had been aware of that since the first day he'd met him. He was funny, he supposed. But neither of those could explain quite why he wanted what he wanted so badly. And what _did_ he want? He stopped walking, leaning against the wall beside him, just breathing. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. 

"Hey, Ryan!" 

He jumped at Helen's voice, muttering a curse. "Uh, hey. Hi."

It looked as if she'd ran after him, even though he'd only just left the station. "The warrant came through to search Allen's trailer!"

His eyes brightened, looking like his old self almost instantly. "Seriously? Just now?"

"Just now." She gave him a sheepish grin. "I know I just told you to take a break, but I also know you would've killed me if I didn't tell you about this."

"And you were right." He smiled at her, turning back towards the station. "Can we go?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, Sara said she'd keep Shane in the station."

His smile slipped slightly at the mention of the sheriff's name. "That's... That's good."

"Before we go." She hesitated. "Just... You need to calm down a bit, Ryan. No, don't get mad. I know it's not your fault. But whatever is going on with you and Shane, it's putting everyone off."

"There's nothing happening between me and Shane," he said through gritted teeth. "Stop thinking there's something happening between me and Shane."

"I know that you two were up to something last night!" she persisted, following him back towards the station. "People don't just sit in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night to do _nothing_!"

"Shut up, Helen!"

"It needs to stop!"

"I can't stop it!" He suddenly turned to look at her, his eyes oddly watery. His voice was quiet, shaky. "I- I tried but I-" He closed his eyes, pressing his lips together in a firm line. "...I just don't know how to."

She watched him in silence for a long moment. She wanted to help, but she didn't even know where to begin. Ryan turned away, a hand on his hip, the other covering his eyes. He stood like this for a long while. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his shoulder, unsure of what to exactly say. She'd never seen him like this before, not once the entire time they'd been partners. But before she could even say anything, Ryan did.

"Let's just go," he muttered, her hand dropping off his shoulder as he moved away. "And don't bring him up again. Please."

* * *

 

Sara cleared her throat before knocking three times, loud and sharp. "Shane?"

There was no response for a moment. "Mm."

She pushed open the office door, expecting to see the sheriff sitting at his desk. Instead she saw him standing at the window, back to her, hands on the sill to prop him up. He didn't turn around. God, he was scary when he was like this. He was a nice guy, in general, she knew that. But angry Shane was someone you would _not_ want to cross. She'd have to tread very carefully here.

"Hey, Shane." She edged into the office, smiling at him. Not that he was looking. "You've barely left the office, man. You alright?"

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips, the silence growing increasingly awkward. "You doing anything tonight? Me and Helen are going-"

"What didn't you tell me?" 

Well, fuck. There was no point in trying to tread carefully on a floor made of hot coal, she supposed. "I... I was just about to tell you about it now."

He straightened up, turning to look at her. "Well what is it? Because I know Helen and that stupid piece of-" He stopped himself, taking a long, deep breath. "I saw them leave about twenty minutes ago. Where are they going?"

She kept her head high; she was in the right, after all. "They're going to Arthur Leigh Allen's trailer. The warrant came through."

"Why didn't you tell me." His voice was quiet, but it seemed louder than any shout could have. 

"Because then you and Ryan would ruin it," she replied firmly. "Just like you've ruined everything else so far."

He bit down on his lip, nodding slowly, unnervingly calm. "Right. Right, okay." He suddenly moved to his desk, swiping the lamp off it in one furious movement. The bulb shattered on the ground. Sara stood stone still, gripping the copy of the warrant tightly in her hands. Maybe if she didn't move, he'd forget she was there.

Shane sat down in his chair, burying his head in his hands. "Go."

"Huh?"

"Go away!"

She jumped to do just that, hastily closing the door behind her. _Well, Sara. That didn't go well at all_.

Shane sat in silence for a long time. He realized his breathing was trembling, no matter how much he tried to steady it. Everything was beginning to get a bit too much; the lack of leads on the killer, the tension in the office every day, the way he kept waking up at five in the morning with no chance of getting back to sleep. But he'd rather die than snap before Ryan did. Shane knew his plan to get the detective sent back to LA had been self-sabotaged. He'd gone ahead and kissed Ryan first. He'd continued the flirting despite his better judgement. He'd been so intent on distracting Ryan from the case that he'd distracted himself. And now he couldn't even say that Ryan had attacked him because he'd fought back almost instantly, in front of the whole office. But he was going to hold onto whatever control remained for dear life. He was going to hold on so tightly he'd leave claw marks in it.

And if Helen and Sara were going to be out of the picture later, then Ryan would be alone in his apartment. He raised his head, taking a deep breath. Yeah, Ryan would be alone. He just had to figure out exactly what he was going to _do_ with that information. He had to figure out the start. He already knew exactly how it was going to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just gonna let y'all know there ain't gonna be any like EXPLICIT sex scene in this fic cuz I can't write them good, but shit's gna go down anyway. sorry if that's disappointing to u :(


	9. BOOM instant regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Ryan go a step too far, and struggle to take it back. Sara and Helen hatch a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little bit of non-con in this chapter... I didn't mean for it to turn out like this but oops

Ryan sat upright at the sound of the knocking on the door. The clock showed half twelve. Great, he’d dozed off in his work clothes. Again. He had to stop that. The knocking came again, a bit more urgent this time. Helen wouldn’t be home this early, would she? Unless something awful had happened. Rubbing his tired eyes, he made his way off the couch to the door. And when he opened it, he really wished he hadn’t.

He stared at Shane in silence for a long moment, still holding the door. “What are you doing here?”

The taller man kept his face guarded, hands on his hips as he looked down at him. “We need to talk.”

Ryan shook his head, wondering if he should just close the door and get this over with. “No. We don’t. And that’s not why you’re here.”

“And what makes you think that?” Shane placed one hand on the door frame, leaning casually against it. “I’m being perfectly innocent in my intentions.”

“I’m not an idiot, Shane.”  _And people who just want to ‘talk’ don’t have that look in their eyes_. “You’re not coming in.”

“Fine." The taller man looked a bit disgruntled, stepping back. "We can talk out here.”

Ryan bit his lip, throwing an anxious look up and down the hallway. It was deserted. He should just shut the door. He should just tell Shane to get lost. He should just do many things. Instead, he did the one thing he knew he definitely should  _not_ do.

He stepped out into the hall, leaving the door open a small amount. An escape route, he told himself. Not an invitation.  _Not_ an invitation.

“Did I wake you?” asked Shane, an eyebrow raised at the sleepy demeanor of the detective. 

“As if you care.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Shane. Why are you here?”

“To get some things under control.”

“Some ‘things’?”

“Us.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve been alerted to the fact that our… current dynamic is distracting to our coworkers.”

“No shit, Shane. You tried to punch me in the face in front of everyone earlier.”

“Are you actually trying to play the victim here? _You_ provoked _me_."

“Well you'd know all about provoking, wouldn't you?”

Shane gave him a warning look. “You’re being very hostile right now, Bergara.”

“I’m  _feeling_ very hostile,” said Ryan heatedly, arms folded across his chest. “You tend to do that to me.”

“Oh, I drive you crazy, do I?” said Shane with a dry smile. 

“You drive me straight-up insane, Madej. And not in a good way.” _In a bad, bad way_. He held the taller man’s gaze, swallowing. “Whatever we’ve been doing, it has to end. Now.”

Shane gave a small laugh. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

Ryan didn’t reply. Mainly because he knew he was absolutely right. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Shane’s eyes were watching his face closely, like he was reading a particularly intriguing article. 

“If that’s all,” said Ryan slowly, desperately wishing one of his neighbors would come out and give him a distraction. “I’m going to go back inside.”

Shane stayed silent for a moment, noticing how Ryan didn’t move away. “Alright.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Ryan stopped halfway, looking back at the taller man, who hadn’t gone to leave. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go.”

Shane was still watching him with that intense glint in his eyes. “So that’s it, then?”

“Huh?”

“We’re finished?”

“We never really started,” replied Ryan coolly. “But yes.”

"Mm. You see, that's not really enough for me." Shane moved towards him, placing a hand on the wall beside the shorter man’s head, cutting him off from the door just beside them. “I think it's a bad ending to a very exciting story.”

Ryan couldn’t seem to breathe. He cursed his own weakness, his own stupidity at even talking to Shane in the first place. He should’ve just shut the door and been done with it. “You should go.”

“I should.” He smiled down at him. “But I won't.”

 _Fuck_. “I knew you didn’t come here just to talk.”

“And yet you stayed to talk with me anyway. How nice of you.”

“Shane.” He tried to keep his voice steady, firm. “I meant what I said. This has to stop.”

“Oh, no, I get it.” His eyes drifted down to Ryan’s mouth, almost as if he didn’t notice. “It does have to stop. At some point.”

Ryan swallowed, wondering why he couldn’t just bring himself to shove the taller man away.  _Because you’re weak, Bergara. And stupid_. “At some point?”

“Just not tonight.”

Ryan let himself be pushed back against the wall, keeping his eyes closed. “Shane… I don’t-”

“Shut up.” Shane could feel the shorter man’s heart racing under his hand, feel Ryan’s hot breath on his face. “You really want this to end right now, do you?”

His thoughts shouted at him to say  _yes, Ryan just say yes, end it!_ His voice was quiet in comparison, impossibly so.“I don’t know.”

This seemed to be the answer Shane was hoping for. “Then we won’t end it.” 

He pressed his lips to Ryan’s before the shorter man’s could reply, a fierce hunger behind it, pushing Ryan’s head back against the wall. Ryan couldn’t muster up as much reluctance as he’d hoped, fingers digging into the taller man’s back. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up already. He could hear his own advice slipping out of his head, overtaken by the feeling of Shane pushing against him, starkly hot against the cold of the wall. Hot and cold, fire and ice, it was everywhere recently, driving him towards the brink at a terrifying rate.

He forced himself to pull away, turning his head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. _This has to stop. This has to stop._   “I don’t- I can’t do this.”

“I can.” Shane firmly took him by the jaw, turning his head back to look up at him. “And I think we both know you’re lying.”

Ryan didn’t even have time to take a breath, the taller man kissing him again, as aggressively passionate as always. He felt Shane’s hands slide down to his thighs, picking him up, pressing him back against the wall. Ryan wrapped his legs tightly around Shane’s waist, hands grabbing the man’s face, the stubble scratching his fingers, their mouths glued together. They continued like this for a minute, for five minutes, for an hour, it was impossible to tell as they let out their frustration and pent-up anger in what could arguably be the worst way possible, considering the fact that the frustration and anger was directly caused by the other man. They broke off simultaneously for a split second, lips inches apart, eyes closed, faces still touching as they caught their breath. And then it was back into it, even harder than before, both beginning to let out mumbled curses, low moans, grabbing at each other so fiercely it hurt. Shane was pressing into the detective with enough force to make it difficult for Ryan to breathe, not that Shane really cared.

“Is Helen in?” he mumbled against Ryan's lips, as if he didn’t already know the answer, feeling the shorter man’s heart racing almost as fast as his. 

“I-”

“ _Is Helen in?_ ” he repeated more firmly. He really couldn't wait anymore.

Ryan shook his head, a slight frown on his face, eyes still closed. “...No. She’s in Sara’s.”

Ten minutes later and they had stumbled back into the apartment, tangled together. Ryan didn't even think about where they were going, allowing himself to be roughly guided into the dark kitchen. He pulled Shane's hand away from the light switch, shaking his head.

"I'll hate myself less if the lights are off," he muttered, hearing Shane's give a breathless, bitter laugh. _I'm not joking_.

Shane didn’t even try to act cool anymore. He went in for the kiss, more desperate than he’d ever been, impatiently maneuvering the shorter man back against the table with such force he had to put a hand on it to steady them. It appeared that Ryan was done with their facade for the time being as well, an arm around Shane’s neck, pulling him in, his other hand holding a fistful of his soft grey jumper. The taller man broke off for a few seconds as he picked Ryan up, placing him on the table, pulling him close. Ryan moaned into his mouth as Shane pushed his hips against his, the table moving underneath him from the momentum. Their mouths fit together, their bodies flush against each other, so obviously complimenting each other that for a split second Ryan thought it was a pity they felt the way they did about each other. Because if this was how hot a basic make-out session got, the next hour was going to be an inferno.

The taller man ripped the buttons open on Ryan’s shirt with enough force to tear the fabric, the shirt sliding off one of his shoulders. He pressed his lips to Ryan’s again, unable to satisfy whatever was burning in his chest, whatever was telling him to do what he was doing. Ryan was kissing him back with such a furious hunger it could’ve almost been considered frightening, if Shane wasn’t into it quite so much. It was a strange feeling, wanting someone so damn much despite the fact that you were ninety percent sure you’d sell them to Satan without a second thought.

“Fucking hell,” breathed Shane against the other man's mouth, pulling back for a second, eyes closed. “ _Fuck_.”

Ryan simply nodded in response, for once unable to speak, his fingers digging into Shane’s waist so hard it should have hurt. It didn’t seem to be doing so. He slipped a hand around the back of Shane’s neck, drawing him in again, their mouths for once moving with each other instead of against. And fuck, it was  _good_. Shane could hear himself breathing heavily, erratically, he could feel Ryan’s ribs slide up against his as they got even more into it, their movements heavy, weighted, their tongues well used to each other by now. But even though the kiss was slower than usual, it was twice as intense, their hearts were racing, thumping impossibly loud. They knew they had the time. There was no haste now, only urgency.

Shane broke off, breathing heavily, eyes still closed. “Take off your clothes. I mean it.” He tugged his own jumper off over his head, chucking it onto the desk behind Ryan. “Take them off.”

Ryan paused with his shirt almost off, the fabric hanging at his elbows. "What if Helen catches-"

"I won't be staying over." Shane ended the chat with a harsh kiss that sent a sharp shock through Ryan's body. He didn't care if anyone caught them. Not right now. He just wanted to do what he'd come over to do, and he wanted to do it _now_.

By the time Helen did come home, Shane had left. She turned on the kitchen lights, frowning at the mess of the place; the kitchen table at an odd angle, a chair knocked on its side. In her drunken state, she didn't think anything of it. She stumbled by Ryan sitting on their small balcony, alone, a glass of some hard alcohol in his hand. He didn't return her goodnight.

* * *

Sara stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "They fucked."

"What? No." Helen's eyes widened as she gestured for her to come over. "Why do you think that?"

"Shane has a damn hickey on his neck!" hissed Sara, joining her at the small table. "Was he there last night? When you got home?"

"I honestly can't remember."

"How drunk _were_ you?"

"I- Pretty damn drunk, Sara!" She frowned as she thought hard, the niggling headache demanding her attention. Uh-oh. The state of the kitchen, the moody Ryan, the ripped shirt she saw in the trash, it all made sense now. "Oh no. Oh _no_. They fucked in the damn kitchen!"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!"

"I eat in there, Sara!" She groaned, leaning back in her chair. "They had sex where I _eat_. That's nasty!"

"That's not really the important thing right now. The important thing is that they're putting themselves in danger."

"Because of each other?"

"In a way." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Shane is the sheriff of this region, Helen! Technically, he's banging one of his employees right now!"

"But me and Ryan are just here until this whole Zodiac thing ends."

"I don't know what Shane was thinking. He's being very,  _very_  stupid." Sara shook her head. "If the superintendent gets wind of this..."

"If the superintendent gets wind of what?"

The two women paused, turning to look at Shane standing in the doorway. He was watching them closely, eyes narrowed. The silence quickly grew uncomfortable.

"If the superintendent gets wind of _what?_ " repeated Shane more forcefully, stepping into the kitchen. 

"Nothing!" grinned Helen, raising her mug at him. "Just talking shit. About last night. About what _we_ got up to last night, not... Not anyone else."

He looked from one to the other, placing his hands on the table as he did so. "Well let's hope the superintendent doesn't get wind of this 'nothing' from either of you. Yeah?"

Helen nodded quickly, but Sara was a bit more reluctant to back off. "Do you have a particular 'nothing' in mind?"

He glared at her. "Watch yourself, Rubin."

"No, Shane. I'm too busy watching out for everyone else here." She pointed accusingly at him. "Which is something _you're_ not doing, despite the fact that it's your damn job."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't I? Because I know you're too damn sexually frustrated to concentrate on your work."

He reddened a bit at the accusation. "I'm not-"

"What the hell are you thinking, Shane?" she continued. "Fucking a detective assigned to help you on this case? Are you insane?"

"I didn't- We aren't-"

"You _did_." She tapped her own neck. "Because I know that didn't come from nowhere."

"You can't-" He straightened up, hands on his hips. "It's none of your business."

"It _is_ my business, Shane! Because you're putting the rest of us on the line here!"

"What's going on?" Ryan edged into the room, looking highly agitated at the scenario. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Shut the fuck up, Bergara!" Shane roughly shoved him into the wall as he stormed past, ignoring the angry curse he got in response as he vanished out the door. 

Ryan stayed where he was for a long moment, avoiding Sara and Helen's eyes. He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, I'm gonna... I'm gonna go..."

Helen turned her eyes to Sara after he left, eyebrows raised. "Literally nothing has changed. Brilliant."

* * *

"Did you lock the door?"

Ryan nodded, still breathless. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"You _think_ so?" Shane stared at him, pausing halfway through buttoning up his shirt. He moved to the door, easily opening it before slamming it shut again. "For God's sake, Ryan! It was open!"

"I didn't- I was a bit distracted, Shane!" 

Shane stared at him with an incredulous look on his face. "So we just had sex while literally anyone in this station could've walked in?!"

"Well no one did, okay?" Ryan gave him an irritated scowl, buckling his belt as he walked past him. "Jesus."

"Just get out, would you?" He glared at the door after Ryan left, righting everything on his desk. "Idiot."

Sara had been right. He was being stupid. He was putting his job, Ryan's job, and now Sara and Helen's jobs on the line. But last night had been good. Really really good. _Too_ good. It had been passionate yet unemotional, hot yet icy cold, aggressive yet oddly gentle at times. Not that he was going to willingly acknowledge this. And he was never, _never_ going to admit it.

The worst thing was that now his plan was truly fucked. He hadn't expected Sara and Helen to find out so damn soon. That meant at least two people in the station knew _he_ had started the... the what? The hooking-up, he supposed. Ah, that was another thing he hadn't planned to happen. What he had wanted was for _Ryan_ to not be able to get enough, for _Ryan_ to slip up and get caught and get himself fired. But instead he found himself wanting it just as much as the other man did. _Well done, Madej, you idiot_.

A light knocking jerked him out of his thoughts. He straightened up, clearing his throat. "Uh, yeah. Come in."

Sara slipped in the door, raising her eyebrows at him with a small smile. "Hey. Just came by to say sorry for snapping earlier."

"No. No, it's fine. I was a dick." He sat down at his desk, giving her an almost ashamed smile in return. "And you're right. I'm being a complete idiot."

"Yeah, you are." She shrugged. "But if you think you can handle it, then..."

"I can," he replied firmly, despite the doubt whispering in his head. "I can. I'm fine."

"If you say so. Just don't get caught, yeah?" She paused, giving him a grin. "Maybe as an apology for being a dick earlier, you could give me tonight off?"

He frowned at her. "Sara, come on. I can't just do that."

"Adam said he'd swap with me! Me and Helen want to go to the cinema." She noticed the sudden interest on his face, his eyes finally focusing on her. "And maybe go to the bar after. Might be late."

Shane leaned back in his chair, shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, if Adam's okay with swapping, then go ahead."

She gave him a thumbs up before leaving. He was trying to act casual, but he was going to go to Ryan's, she knew it. He wouldn't be able to stay away if he knew Ryan was going to be alone. Which meant that the Step One in her and Helen's plan could be crossed off. 

Step Two was going to involve a bit more physical activity, unfortunately. 


	10. Lock-in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Helen put their plan into action. Shane and Ryan are forced to actually talk like normal people. Many things are discussed, argued, and acknowledged. Adam just wants everyone to stop shouting.

Helen was going out. This was bad.

Ryan stayed later at the station than he should have. He couldn't go back to the apartment. What if Shane came around again? Oh, he knew _exactly_ what would happen if Shane came around again. Because the sex was good. The person, though, was not so good. But he couldn't seem to be able to just stay no. So he stayed late. Very late.

He was unfortunately unaware that Shane was doing the exact same thing. He couldn't stay in his apartment knowing that Ryan was alone just a ten minute drive away. He didn't trust himself anymore. So he also stayed late, trapping himself in his office, distracting himself by any means necessary. At around one in the morning, he decided to venture out of his office for some coffee. And boy, was that a mistake.

"You're still here?!" Ryan's horror was palpable, eyes wide. 

" _You're_ still here?!"

"And me," said Adam quietly from his desk. "I'm here."

"What- Why are you here?" Ryan was holding his pen so hard it was a wonder it didn't shatter in his hand. "You aren't on the night shift."

"You're not either!"

"I swapped with Steven."

"Without telling me?" Shane glared at him. "I thought the whole undermining me thing was in the past, Bergara."

Ryan glared back. "So you're allowed pop in and out as you like, and we all have to run around after you, is that it?"

"Yes. That's exactly it."

The detective snorted, going back to his work. "Well I never agreed to that system."

"You're not part of the system," said Shane coldly, finally moving out of the doorway and into the station. "You're a big pain in the system's neck."

"Go away, Shane. I was actually beginning to calm down for the first time in months."

"Well we can't have that, can we?" Shane moved to his desk, standing on the opposite side, like an annoyed teacher with his least favorite student. "This whole case is done for. Nothing turned up at Allen's trailer. His handwriting doesn't match. We're as lost as we were when you first got here." He placed his hands on the desk, leaning across it to look Ryan straight in the eye. "So thanks for absolutely nothing, _detective_." 

Ryan didn't look away. He could feel his pulse already picking up, whether from anger or something else, he wasn't sure. "You didn't exactly make my job easy, Madej. So if you're going to start pointing fingers here, I know who to begin with."

"Oh, do you?"

"Yeah. I do." Ryan got to his feet, still holding the other man's gaze. "You know what? I'm glad you're fucking this case into the ground, because now I can finally get out of this shithole."

"Good!" Shane threw his hands into the air. "Finally! The day has come!"

Adam finally stopped surveying the scene, answering the screaming phone. "Hello?"

“Are Shane and Ryan there? Just say yes or no.”

Oh. It was Helen. “Uh... yeah.”

“Are they being weird?”

“Almost always.”

“No, but, like, in a sexual way”

“Again, almost always.” He watched in silence as Ryan stormed out of the room, Shane following him doggedly, their bickering still going strong. “They just went into the kitchen.”

“Oh brilliant, brilliant, okay listen.” A pause. “Lock the door.”

He blinked. “Huh?!”

“Lock the door. Lock them in together.”

“What?" He was entirely confused yet very much intrigued. "Why?”

“I’ll tell you when we get to the station. But just do it. Go do it now and tell me when you’re done.”

Shrugging, he did it, going back to the phone. “I did it.”

"Great." He could hear her moving, a door closing. “Now put in some headphones, because I have a feeling they might want to get out sooner rather than later.”

"Okay." He went to hang up, stopping himself at the last second. “What’s going on?”

“Well, they’re being insane, yes?”

“Uh... Yeah. Yeah.”

“They’re being reckless too, right?”

“Right.”

“So this is the last available option for us,” she said simply.

“Huh?”

“We lock ‘em in a room. We let them sort it out between them. And we don’t let them out until they’ve calmed down. Because if any of us hear one more of their stupid arguments we'll explode." He could hear her smiling. "It's simple, really."

“Helen... Have you thought this through at all?”

“Yes." She hesitated. "Kind of.”

“Have you told Sara?”

“...No." She sounded guilty. "She’s waiting outside Ryan’s for Shane to turn up. I'm going to tell her now, though!”

“So you haven’t thought it through.”

“She’ll just ruin my plan!" insisted Helen. "Damn, Adam. Since when do you talk so much?”

 _Bang bang bang!_  “Adam! Who are you talking to?”

Oh shit. It was Shane. “Uh... Myself.”

More loud knocking, followed by Ryan’s voice this time. “The door’s locked, Adam! Did you lock the door?!”

“Uh- Um-”

“Adam, open this door!” Ryan sounded impatient.

“I- Just-”

“Adam, open the damn door!”

"Adam! Come on!"

“Adam I am your  _boss_ open this door!”

He stared wide-eyed around the empty station, clutching the phone. "Helen, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Adam, open the fucking door!" A loud bang, hard enough to make him jump.

"Jesus Christ, Shane!" He could hear the irritation clear in Ryan's voice. "Don't fucking kick the door in!"

"Well what do you suppose we do, huh?"

"Just- Just let him do whatever he's doing. It's probably just some stupid prank."

"Well do you hear even a _single_ chuckle coming from my mouth?"

"Shane- Shane!" A scuffling sound. "Do not kick that door, I swear to God."

"You're gonna stop me, are ya?"

"Helen." Adam spun in his chair to put his back to the door, still holding the phone tightly in both hands. "I really don't think this is good."

"It's fine!" He could hear an engine start. "It's just- Oh shit. It's Sara. She caught me."

"You kick that door and I'll knock you out!"

"Sure you will. Hey, maybe I could hold you sideways and use you as a battering ram."

More scuffling. "Get off. Shane, get off!"

"I'm not trying to _trick_ you, Sara, I just-"

"Shane put me down before I kick your ass!"

"Stay still, Ryan! I'm going for it!"

"Sara _relax_ I was just-"

Adam slammed the phone down to get rid of one set of shouting, clamping his hands over his ears to try and block out the other, louder shouts coming from the kitchen. The phone on Steven's desk trilled, Adam scooped it up, putting it to his ear. "Police! Yep, yep, I'll get someone over. Nope, I don't hear shouting thank you goodbye."

* * *

_1:30am. A half hour after lock-in._

"Shane stop it." Ryan glared at him from his perch on the kitchen table. "You're annoying me."

"I've almost got it." The sheriff was kneeling down in front of the door, back to Ryan. "I know I've almost got it."

"You don't have it, dude. Just stop." He watched as Shane continued jamming the knife into the keyhole, by now basically just stabbing the door. "Jesus Christ, stop it!"

"Oh, fuck it!" Shane rested his forehead against the door, letting out a frustrated groan. "I'm going to fire him. I'm going to fire all of them."

Ryan rolled his eyes, talking around a mouthful of popcorn. "I thought I was meant to be the one who flips out."

"Oh shove it, Ryan." He got to his feet, hands on his hips. He stood like this for a long while, simply staring at the other man, almost expectantly.

"What?" asked Ryan, a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth. "What is it?"

"Is that my popcorn?"

"No!" Ryan pointed at him, a few popcorns falling from his hand as he did so. "No, it's mine! I bought it yesterday!"

"Bullshit!"

"It's not!"

Shane made a strangling gesture towards him, suddenly turning back to the door with all the flair of Indiana Jones facing a secret passage. "I need to get out of here." 

"Stop being so dramatic."

"My own employees have locked me in the damn kitchen, Bergara! I'm not being dramatic!" 

"If you keep banging on that door I'll actually kill you."

Shane stopped, keeping a hand pressed against the door as he turned to look at him. "They're doing this because of you."

"Excuse me?" Ryan stared at him in disbelief. "They're doing this because of us. And the root cause of us is _you_."

"Nope. No it wasn't."

"It was. Don't even try to deny it, Madej."

"I-" He threw a scowl at him. "You weren't exactly holding back."

Ryan almost went through the roof. "I did hold back!"

"You're full of shit, Ryan Bergara."

"No! You seduced me!"

"I did what now?!" Shane laughed, like he was just told a joke he was _not_ meant to find funny. "I _seduced_ you?"

"Yes! With your flirting and your touching and your- your kissing and your-"

"Oh yeah, that was all so one-sided," said Shane dryly.

"You initiated it! You initiated all of it!"

Shane gave another dry laugh. "So you're saying you weren't giving me any signals? At all?"

Ryan got to his feet, chucking the bag of popcorn back onto the table; he'd suddenly lost his appetite. "I _didn't_. I know I didn't."

"So all the eye contact, all the lip-biting, all the-"

"Shut up, Shane." He could feel himself reddening, his fists clenching as the taller man moved towards him. "That's not true."

"Then why are you blushing?" Shane grinned at him, lightly pinching his cheek. "You're _embarrassed_."

"Stop it."

"You're doing it." Shane's eyes were fixed on his mouth, his smirk slipping slowly. "Again."

Ryan realized he was indeed biting on his lip, completely unaware. _Curse you, subconscious._ "I don't mean it."

"That's very telling, Bergara."

"Shut up."

"Face the truth, Ryan. You wanted this as much as I did."

"I didn't," persisted the shorter man, fully aware that he was lying through his teeth. "I don't."

"Allow me to jog your memory." Shane deftly undid the detective's tie, slowly pulling it off, not taking his eyes from Ryan's the whole time. He held it in front of the shorter man's face. "Well?"

"That was once," said Ryan, blushing, snatching the tie back.

"What about the car, then?" 

Ryan swallowed, staying silent. Maybe he should just plead the Fifth.

"You've conveniently forgotten about that little moment, have you?" Shane was looking down at him from under heavy lids, biting back a smile. "Want me to jog your memory again?"

 _Hell yes_. Ryan opened his mouth to say no, accidentally pulling the taller man into a hard kiss. He heard Shane make a satisfied noise, a low grunt, his hands pressing into the small of Ryan's back, pushing their bodies together. It quickly grew heavier, hotter, their breathing growing louder, hands grasping, grabbing.

Ryan suddenly pulled away, pushing Shane back a step. "No! Nope, you did it again!"

"I didn't start that!" shot back Shane, pointing at him. "You did that!"

"You goaded me into it!"

"Fuck you! You kissed me!"

"You know what?" Ryan crossed to the opposite side of the kitchen, spreading his arms. "This is my side. That's your side."

"What?" Shane glanced around. "My side's smaller! And you get the table."

"You weren't quick enough. Not my fault." Ryan pointed at him accusingly. "And if you flirt with me again I'll punch you right in the mouth."

"I didn't- Adam! Adam please!" Shane slammed his fists on the door, hard enough for the hinges to rattle. "Mister Bianchi, tear down this wall!"

* * *

_2:00am. An hour after lock-in._

Sara ignored the yells from the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the fact that it was Shane who was begging to be let out. "Huh. I'll be honest and say I expected Ryan to do that first."

Helen smiled at her. "But it might be working, right? They haven't killed each other yet."

The other woman gave her a stern look. "Although I am very annoyed that you left me out of your real plan, I'll admit that this could work. But you still have ten minutes left on your trial run. It could still go downhill."

Adam put an ear to the kitchen door, listening. There was no sound. That was almost worse than the yelling. What were they doing? Were they just sitting? That's highly unlikely. Ryan and Shane didn't just sit. They argued and fought and did other things too, he was beginning to suspect. Helen and Sara wouldn't tell him, but he knew. He knew Ryan and Shane were getting it on. It was obvious, despite their best attempts to hide it. 

"They'll talk it out," insisted Helen, sitting on the edge of her desk. 

"Or they'll murder each other," said Sara dryly. "Which is a tad more likely."

"Why is no one answering any phones?!" Brent threw his coat on his desk, scrambling to answer the nearest phone. "Hello? Mmhmm. Yep. No problem. What's the address?"

"They're being awfully quiet," said Adam. "I think they're dead."

* * *

_3:30am. Two and a half hours after lock-in_.

What fucking time was it? It felt like it had been years since they'd been locked in. Ryan lifted his head off the desk, blinking sleepily. Shane had resided to sitting against the opposite wall, legs crossed, arms folded, glowering at him in a moody silence. God, this was a nightmare. Was Adam trying to torture them? Was this some sicker version of the Hunger Games? Was it a last man standing scenario? Whatever it was, Ryan had had enough.

"Stop staring at me," he snapped, finally meeting Shane's scowl. "It's making me uncomfortable."

The sheriff didn't look away. "Apologies."

"How sincere of you." He got to his feet, stretching like he'd just woke up from a thousand-year sleep. "Is anyone even still out there?"

"Mm. I heard Sara and Helen. And Brent." His eyes followed Ryan to the door. "Hey. Pal. You're on my land."

"Shut up."

"Huh. Are you descended from Columbus, by any chance?"

 _Ha. That was actually funny_. Ryan hid his smile, listening at the door. "I can't hear anyone."

"So what?" Shane got to his feet, using the wall as a means of balance as he did so. "It doesn't mean anything. We're still locked in this stupid hellhole."

The shorter man turned to look at him. "Holy shit, dude. What if we _were_ killed by the Zodiac that night, and we're actually in hell right now?"

"I'd believe it." He kept his distance, still not quite trusting himself to get too close. "What do they want us to do, exactly?"

"I have no idea." 

Shane sighed long and loud, hands on his hips. "It's like an escape room. Except I'm stuck with the most irritating man on the planet."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Funny how you say that. Because the last time I checked you owned that title."

"I think the fuck not."

The detective cleared his throat, knocking on the door. "Hello?"

A silence. "Yeah?"

"Helen!" He sighed heavily. "Helen, what do you want us to do here? What's the point of all this?"

It was Sara who answered. "You guys are running this place into the ground! Sort your shit out!"

"We have!" Shane pushed him out of the way, restraining himself from knocking on the door again. "We're best buds now! Me and Ryan Bergara, we're a package deal!"

"Could you sound any more sarcastic?" asked Brent dryly. 

Shane turned away from the door with an irritated tut, crossing the kitchen to the kettle. "Tea. I'd like tea."

"Anything harder?" 

He threw a flat look at Ryan. "It's a police station, Ryan."

Ryan shrugged. "My bad. I assumed since you're in charge, there'd be some broken rules somewhere."

Shane hesitated, turning off the kettle. "It's under the sink. I'll get glasses."

* * *

_4:00 am. Three hours after lock-in_.

"They're definitely getting louder." Sara listened closely at the door, checking her watch. "It's been hours and they're still arguing about stupid shit."

"Why? What're they saying?" asked Helen, getting up to join her. 

"Something about a shark and a bear."

"But what's with the sudden increase in volume?" Brent sat at his desk, him and Adam attempting to even look as if they were working. "Also, I heard a few slurred words in there."

"Oh fuck." Sara clamped a hand across her eyes. "There's alcohol. Under the sink."

"Alcohol under the sink?!" repeated Helen incredulously. "I love this place even more everyday."

"Yoooo." Steven swanned in, giving them all a bright grin. "What's up?" He paused, hands out. "Something's off. Something's going on."

"No shit, man." Andrew continued on past, coffee in hand. "This stuff is good, Steven. I know it was like, $10, but it's good!"

"Worth it?" asked Steven, giving him finger guns.

"Worth it."

"Sara and Helen are torturing Ryan and Shane," explained Brent simply. "For their own entertainment, it appears."

"Hm?" Steven continued on towards the kitchen. "What're you-"

"Steven!" There was a slamming on the door, like someone had thrown their whole five-foot-ten self against it. "Steven, let us out! Please!"

Steven paused, slowly turning to look at the others. "What the fuck."

"Just don't open it," said Helen firmly, standing near the door with Sara. "I think they're beginning to get somewhere."

* * *

_5:00am. Four hours after lock-in_.

"If- If you put a bear anywhere, land, sea, it doesn't matter, the bear will win!" insisted Ryan with sincerity, the whiskey leaving him feeling nice and warm. "It's, uh, physics. Or biology. One of them."

"Bullshit. I could name, like, at least four animals who could kill a bear." He listed them off on his free hand, spilling his drink a tiny bit as he counted. "Hippo, shark-"

"No, no-"

"-cassowary-"

"What?"

"-moose."

" _Moose?_ "

"I could go on."

"A moose could _not_ kill a bear!" Ryan laughed at the thought, giving the table a hearty slap. "That's just stupid."

"Have you ever seen a moose?" replied Shane seriously. "They're gigantic. They're giant deer. Giants."

"So you're basically a human moose."

Shane laughed out loud, shrugging. "Yeah. I guess. And you'd be- you'd be a gopher. Or a beaver. We could have our own cartoon."

"I always thought of myself as more of a quokka," said Ryan thoughtfully. "But I'd be okay with gopher. But anyway, a bear would smoke all their asses. It's a _bear_."

Shane shook his head at him, taking the half-empty bottle off the table. "Give me that. You owe the station a new bottle."

"What? _We_ are drinking it!" Ryan pointed to himself then to Shane, eyes wide. "Together!"

"Together?" Shane made a disgusted face. "I can't believe we're actually just doing a normal thing together. It's not right."

"No. It's not." Ryan paused. "We've gone, like, an hour without actually arguing."

"Now that's a record." He shrugged, looking into his drink. "Well, I'll be honest, Ryan. You're not actually that bad."

"Yeah?" Ryan grinned at him, resting one arm on the back of his chair. "That's just the alcohol talking."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Well you're not that bad either. _Maybe_."

Shane blinked, noticing how the smile also slipped from Ryan's face. Oh no. No, they can't start _liking_ each other. Not now. They can't be hooking up and liking each other at the same time. That would be a total disaster. That would be even messier than what they were currently doing. Shane wished he could crush his current emotions with his bare hands, but the alcohol was making this a tad difficult. He quickly went back to the previous conversation.

"But you've drank most of the bottle! So you should replace it!"

"No. No, I haven't." Ryan got to his feet, mentally cursing his small stumble as he did so. "I can walk in a straight line. Watch."

Shane watched from his chair, resting his chin on his hand. "Do a backflip."

"I can't do a backflip, dude."

"Say the alphabet backwards."

Ryan frowned, raising a hand for silence. "Z, Y, X, uh, W... T?"

"You're absolutely shitfaced, Ryan." Shane shook his head in mock-disappointment, downing the rest of his drink. "You're a mess."

"You try it."

Shane grinned at him over his glass. "No."

"You ass." He plonked himself back down into his chair, extending a hand for the bottle. "Gimme. Gimme gimme gimme gimme-"

"Jesus, Ryan! Shut up!" He pushed the bottle towards him, rolling his eyes. "You're so stubborn, it's ridiculous."

" _I'm_ stubborn?" Ryan gave him a flat look as he filled up his glass. "Pot calling the kettle black, hm?"

"I am not half as stubborn as you are," shot back Shane, folding his arms on the table. "With your little annoyed frown you do."

"This one?"

Shane grinned. "Yeah. That's the one."

Ryan shrugged, taking another gulp of his drink. "At least that's all I do. You put on your bossman voice, and let everyone know just how-"

"My what voice?" interrupted Shane, laughing. 

"That's what Steven calls it." Ryan smiled at him, glass halfway to his mouth. "Your voice goes all low and clipped. And strict."

"Well I can't _help_ that." Shane raised his eyebrows. "I'm the boss. I gotta _be_ the boss."

"Well you have to stop it," said Ryan simply, still smiling. "Because it's ridiculously hot."

"It's hot?" Shane grinned at him, taking a small sip from his glass. He didn't take his eyes from the other man's. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind. As long as you stop giving me that flirty look that you're always giving."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh you're always _looking_ at me," said Shane, raising an eyebrow. "I know I'm irresistibly good-looking, but-"

"Shut up."

Shane bit back a smile. "Just spilling facts, Bergara." 

Ryan swallowed his drink, still holding eye contact.  _Don't do it. Don't do it, Bergara_. He stayed silent. So did Shane. The taller man's gaze flickered to Ryan's mouth and back to his eyes again, raising his head, his long inhale audible. Ryan was gripping his glass like it was the only thing keeping him in his seat. The alcohol was making him feel just that bit more... confident in what he was doing. In what he was thinking. Shane was still watching him, his own glass forgotten.

"Hello?" A loud knock on the door, making them both jump. "You guys alive?"

"God dammit, Steven!" Ryan went to the door, the room spinning just a tiny bit as he did so. "Let us out! Please!"

"No can do, boys. Helen and Sara went for breakfast, and we're not allowed let you out until they get back."

"Breakfast?" Shane groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Jesus, what time is it?"

"Uh... About six," said Steven brightly. "So you've been in there about five hours!"

"I'm hungry, Steven!" He joined Ryan at the door, trying the handle. "Come on, man. Just open it."

"There's food in there," replied Steven, his voice receding. "You're in a kitchen, idiots."

Ryan took a deep breath, turning to look up at the taller man. "I can't cook. Can you cook?"

"Kind of." He tore his eyes from the shorter man's, heading towards the fridge. "I'm going to eat everyone's food, I don't even care."

The detective waited, his eyes travelling up and down Shane's tall frame. Stupid alcohol. Stupid.

"You're doing it, Ryan!" Shane pointed at him, his other hand on the fridge. "You're doing your fuck-me eyes!"

"I didn't- I'm not- Steven!" He pressed his hands against the door, forehead resting against it. "Steven, I'm literally begging you to let me out."

No answer. But for some strange reason, he didn't want to get out now quite as much as he had at the beginning. And he didn't want to think about why.


End file.
